


of all the trees

by Hermaline75



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Christmas, Class Differences, M/M, POV Alternating, Rating May Change, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-01-18 20:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 28,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: Loki Laufeyson, son and heir of the Jotunheim estate, returns home for what he expects to be a thoroughly dull Christmas season.Until he catches sight of the new footman, a man he fully intends to have before the year is out.For Thor's part, he'd rather not spend any more time with Sir Laufey's spoiled brat than strictly necessary. Even if he is strangely alluring.
Relationships: Loki/Thor
Comments: 648
Kudos: 271





	1. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy December! We've almost made it through another one somehow. Hope you enjoy this little festive offering.

Loki pulled his furs a little tighter, his hat firmly down over his ears, pouting and sighing even though no one could see him and appreciate it. The heavy velvet curtains on his carriage were doing little to keep out the cold, it seemed.

He would get the sniffles at this rate.

And he was still bitter about being guilted into coming home at all. He'd have much rather stayed in the relatively mild climes of Italy rather than taking what seemed like an endless journey that was getting colder and colder by the second to the land of ice and shivers and - ugh - snow...

Svaldifari was staying in Italy. They could be drinking sparkling wine by the fire together right now. Curled up naked on his threadbare Persian rug, which Loki really wasn't convinced was really authentic, but never mind.

But no. It had been all "Loki, your mother would dearly like to see you" and "Loki, you're expected" and eventually they'd worn him down and he'd finally agreed to go.

And he definitely wasn't feeling any kind of warm fuzziness at rounding the corner and catching his first glimpse of the old country pile through the tinest gap in his curtains. Big and rectangular, the twin wings, the staircase up to the front door. Home. Always would be.

When he owned it, he'd invite all his most interesting friends to come and visit, fill out some of the rooms at last.

They'd made all the servants line up to welcome him, even though it was freezing, which was sure to endear him to anyone he hadn't already managed to annoy.

Only four of them? Had they really cut down to so few these days?

His mother was virtually spherical with all the layers she was wearing, shuffling forwards with arms outstretched to hug him in her genteel way, a light kiss on his cheek.

"You really shouldn't be out here, Mother," he said. "It's much too cold. What if you'd slipped on the steps?"

"And miss my son's arrival?"

He gave her his arm to make their way inside, feet crunching on the salted flagstone stairs, into the warmth of the foyer. His bags would be taken in. He didn't concern himself with such things.

"You must tell me all you've been up to," she said, their coats being removed around them. Mrs Jarnsaxa still in attendance, though a housekeeper removing outer layers seemed a little irregular.

Loki's brain flashed with various activities he would much rather his mother remained blissfully unaware of.

"Oh, you know," he said. "Lots of reading. Lots of lectures. Studying. Where's Father?"

She swept into the blue parlour, a fire merrily crackling in the grate to warm his hands, sitting on the low sofa.

"I believe he's out exercising the dogs. Shall we ring for tea?"

"I'll get it."

It was strangely reassuring to tug on the rope, feeling the soft fabric beneath his fingers. The places where it had been neatly repaired over the years slightly brighter than the old thread. Maybe he had missed home a little more than he'd like to admit.

"How was the trip?"

"Long and cold," Loki said, sitting down opposite her. "I'm sure I'd have appreciated the sights far more if I'd not been sniffing quite so much."

"Don't let your father hear you saying that. He already thinks too much learning in Europe will make you soft."

"I'm sure I'll grow accustomed to the temperature again soon enough."

The door must have opened behind him silently, his mother looking to the person there.

"Ah, Odinson," she said. "Tea for two, if you would please."

It wasn't a name Loki recognised, though there had been a steady turnover of footmen over the years. Getting married, moving on, the usual. Nothing remarkable about it. Just another in a long line.

Or so he thought until the tray was dutifully brought and he caught sight of this newcomer.

It was the general shape that intrigued him first, a sense of scale and gravitas, wide shoulders that somehow moved with grace, height to rival his own.

And then the details. The large hands gripping the silver tray handles with such care, not allowing the cups to so much as rattle, the golden hair tied back into a neat tail but still allowing a few errant strands to fall forwards, framing a broad face with well-proportioned features. Nothing unusual, perhaps, but very handsome.

And the eyes... Blue, but that was more of an afterthought compared to the way they glanced at him only once and seemed to see everything, all of him in but a second.

"Shall I pour, my lady?" he asked, and even his voice made Loki's ears prick up. Deep but not harsh.

"No, thank you. We'll manage."

A nod, another of those piercing glances, and he left.

Oh, yes.

Maybe being home for Christmas wasn't going to be so bad after all.


	2. A New Job

Thor made his way downstairs to the kitchen with a faint sense of unease. He had silver to polish.

It was a very recent addition to his duties, carefully wiping every speck of tarnish from every tine of every fork. They were using the most fancy cutlery this evening, celebrating the son and heir's return. The prodigal son, as it were.

Ymir hadn't let him touch so much as a teaspoon for longer than the trip from the kitchen to the dining room until he'd proven himself, shown he was trustworthy, not a thief. But then again, he needed someone to do the polishing...

Thor had the distinct impression that there used to be more servants on the Jotunheim Estate than there were now. A house like this was difficult to run, even with just Sir Laufey and her ladyship. Any more family and you'd need to have more that just a butler, housekeeper and cook.

And him, of course. Theoretically a footman but in practice more or less a general dogsbody. Groom, kitchen helper, fetcher and carrier, fireplace sweeper, chamber pot emptier. If it needed doing, he'd do it.

After the silver, Laufey would be home and the dogs would need feeding and then it would be near enough dinner time as made no difference...

Angerboda was already boiling something on the stove. Really, she seemed too young to be a fully fledged cook, but presumably she demanded less pay than most. And he'd eaten her food. She was good at what she did.

Something was bothering him. Something about the way Mr Laufeyson had looked at him. Something... off about it.

"What's he like?" he asked, starting on the knives.

"What?" Angerboda asked, skillfully peeling potatoes like she was whittling wood.

"The young master."

"Oh, Loki? He's trouble. They hope that university might have helped instill a little more propriety, but I think there will always be some wildness inherent to him. And he's... He's handsome. If you like that kind of thing."

Thor shrugged vaguely. He did like that kind of thing, but it didn't really matter. He knew his place and it was not making eyes at his employer's son.

The kitchen door opening was their cue to leap to their feet, Sir Laufey entering in a cold blast of air and a tumble of dogs, stamping the snow off his boots.

"Yes, yes," he said, trying to stop the dogs jumping up at him excitedly, herding them into their winter kennel. "You'll be fed soon enough, don't worry."

"Your son has arrived, my lord," Thor said, nodding his bow. "He's taking tea with her ladyship in the blue parlour."

"Good, good. Well, I'm sure he can wait until I dress for dinner."

Thor sometimes felt the dogs were treated better than most servants he'd known, kept in an old pantry near to the warmth from the range, nice and cosy. And fed on the table scraps. It wasn't too shabby.

In many ways, Laufey was rather more old-fashioned than his wife. Left to his own devices, Thor thought he'd much rather live like a medieval baron than a modern lord, all hunting and ale and horses. Having to take tea in parlours really wasn't his style, but he did it for her ladyship.

Having his son back for Christmas could lead to some conflict. Hopefully not. Good will to all men and so on.

The dogs were very excited to be fed, snuffling at him, excited to be pet and fussed a little. He didn't mind this job. He felt very appreciated, even if he did have to wash his hands afterwards and hurry to change into his serving uniform.

"Thor," Ymir said as he passed the butler's office. "I trust you have decanted the port."

"I thought his lordship preferred brandy."

"Mr Laufeyson finds it warming."

"Then I will decant it immediately."

Great. Already impacting on what was already a busy day. But fine. It hardly took up much of his time as he laid the table and headed back downstairs to help ladle out the cream of parsley soup. Simple but warming.

Had he ever seen a cravat like the one Loki was wearing? Doubtless some kind of continental fashion. The swirling green pattern was rather fetching, in a gauche way.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of the gaze following him around the room, though.

"Father, I really think I ought to have a valet," Loki was saying.

Laufey chuckled heartily.

"A valet, indeed? And where do you propose to find one of those?"

It was a fair question. Even he didn't have a valet, Ymir performing such duties on the rare occasions they were necessary.

"Oh, the new footman would do, I think. He seems capable enough."

Thor did not like where this was going at all...

"You shouldn't impose upon him, dear," Lady Farbauti said. "Odinson has a lot on."

"It's really just to help me with my cufflinks. I do struggle with them so."

"Oh, well, I'm sure he could cope with that. Couldn't you, Odinson?"

Thor forced himself to smile.

"Of course, your ladyship."

Loki watched him over the rim of his wineglass in a way that made him very wary indeed.


	3. A Proper Meeting

Loki swirled his port - better quality than the stuff he'd grown accustomed to, but therefore served in disappointingly small portions - and did his best to attend to his father's words.

Really, he felt neither of them would mind dispensing with these niceties, but for some reason it was considered proper for his mother to retire early and for the gentlemen to take a nightcap together.

Laufey stood by the fireplace, poking at it a little to encourage the embers to give up their last remnants of heat. The height and thinness bordering on gaunt that Loki had inherited was silhouetted, the fine cheekbones that they shared, but a far ruddier complexion. Loki was glad he'd taken his mother's dark hair and that he looked after his skin rather better than his father bothered to.

"Winter is always troublesome," Laufey was saying. "I'm glad you're here to assist."

"Assist?" Loki asked suspiciously.

"Visiting on the estate, ensuring everyone is alright in this foul weather."

Quite what he was supposed to do if they weren't, Loki wasn't sure. The tenants were proud people. They would not want charity, especially not from the likes of him.

Maybe they just liked to be seen.

"Of course, Father," he said. "Perhaps I could cut them some firewood."

"You could certainly try, if you wished."

He didn't wish. Standing outside in the freezing cold with a sharp object? No, thank you. Besides, they'd all have cut quite enough in warmer times. They weren't stupid.

"I rather feel taking baskets of preserves round might be more at my level, Father. A little sweetness for the season."

Nodding, sipping his brandy.

"I, er... I didn't inform your mother that you were considering not coming home for Christmas, just so you know. I think it would have greatly upset her."

That was a little surprising.

"She's no shrinking violet, Father. She'd have coped."

"Yes, of course, of course, but still. It wouldn't have felt right without you. The two of us, rattling around in here... We'd have missed you."

It wasn't always easy for Laufey to express affection. This was practically a fatherly embrace by his standards.

"I'm glad to be here," Loki said, sincerely, though maybe for different reasons along with seeing his parents.

Up in his room, he checked himself carefully in his mirror before ringing the bell, making sure he looked suitably handsome and enticing. This was mere testing of the waters, but he still wanted to ensure a good impression.

He undid the large knot in his cravat, but left it tucked beneath his collar, standing insouciantly before his bed, waiting for the knock.

"Come in," he said, voice low, waiting until he knew Odinson was looking before tugging off his cravat and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. Just enough that the hollow at the base of his neck was visible.

"Ah, excellent," he said, turning round and removing his jacket. "It's these wretched cufflinks. Much, much easier with two hands."

He held out his wrist, slightly annoyed by the white gloves barring him from the touch of bare skin. Odinson didn't seem perturbed, deftly operating the catch to undo them.

"How long have you been working here?" Loki asked.

"Around four months, sir."

"And do you like it?"

"Your parents have been very kind to me, sir. Keep me busy, as I like to be."

So stilted! This would not do. Loki was sure there was a spark behind those eyes, a sharpness, a quick wit. Not that he would mind particularly if he had found himself a beautiful simpleton to order around, but, well, he liked his lovers to be able to maintain a conversation.

"I don't really like using surnames, you know," Loki said, handing over the little velvet box for his jewellery to be put away. "I find them rather impersonal, for all it is considered the done thing. In private, would you find it a terrible imposition if I were to use your first name?"

"It wouldn't bother me, sir."

So careful! He'd even make Loki ask. It was most intriguing.

"And that name?"

A look from those bright eyes, all shrewd and revealing in the stoic face.

"It's Thor, sir. Thor Odinson. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Oh, many, many things, but alas, they'd have to wait...

"No, thank you, Thor. Goodnight."

A small bow.

"Goodnight, sir."

The door clicked shut and Loki threw himself on the bed, grinning.

This was going to be fun.


	4. Beginning

Thor finished his duties for the night, diligently winding all the clocks and checking all the fires were suitably damped before climbing the stairs to the servant quarters.

He was lucky in many ways. He had his own room, a modicum of privacy that not many in his station enjoyed.

And that meant no one saw him flop down onto his bed for a moment before getting undressed, shivering in the night air.

What on earth had all that been about? If he didn't know better, he'd think that the young master was... attempting to get to know him in an improper fashion. But that couldn't be right. And he could get into a lot of trouble for even thinking such a thing. He must be mistaken.

It had been a long time since he'd last been alone with another man, not that he'd been removing cufflinks then. Just belts and shirts, crashing together in passion. But such things couldn't last. Never did.

And surely Mr Laufeyson had not intended to stir such ideas in him. People like that did not think of servants as having feelings, not really. The removal of a scarf, the brush of fingers - it was all just incidental.

And if he _had_ meant to...

Well, it didn't matter. He was not going to allow himself to be another toy for a spoiled rich brat. He could lose his position over that.

And, yes, alright, so he was handsome. And charming, in a superficial way. Those thin lips looked soft and his hair begged to be touched and beneath his clothes there would be plains of beautiful smooth skin. Thor could imagine it much, much too easily. Lean muscles beneath his hands, dark tresses tangled across the pillow, little panted pleas for more, making that perfect clipped voice crack...

But none of that mattered. He just had to do his work.

He slept, worn out, waking in the dark and dragging himself out of bed to begin his duties. Lighting the fires, warming the house, and then washing his hands carefully before opening the curtains. Not so much as a smudge of coal dust on the fabrics.

The ringing bell in the kitchen wasn't a tone he recognised, squinting up at it. Bedroom 3.

"That's for you," Angerboda said, stirring a huge pan of porridge. "He's been ringing for ten minutes."

"What does he want before breakfast?"

She looked at him over her shoulder, exasperated.

"Maybe wants you to help dress him. Hurry up, it's setting my teeth on edge."

Help him dress? What nonsense was this? Sir Laufey never expected assistance. Her ladyship, well, that he could understand. He was hardly an expert on female attire, but there were laces and buttons on the back and other things that might require some extra hands, but what sort of able-bodied grown man required assistance with his trousers?

He carefully forced his face into neutrality before knocking on the door.

"Come in."

Dark, the curtains still drawn, the light from the corridor revealing that Loki was still abed.

"Yes, sir. What can I do for you?"

"It's dreadfully cold, Thor."

"Yes, sir. I'll stir up your fire a little."

"Thank you. I brought a suitable robe with me, but I can't recall which case it's in. Could you find it for me?"

So many clothes! And so fine. Thor was rather shocked, feeling silk and linen beneath his fingers. Eventually he found a velvet, quilted dressing gown, drawing it out of the portmanteau.

Loki got out of bed and turned his back, arms outstretched. Surely he didn't mean...

Thor awkwardly slipped it on for him, one sleeve at a time, feeling strange to touch him even so dispassionately. At least he did the belt up himself, sighing in a way that made something stir in Thor. Something he quickly pushed away.

"Shall I open the curtains, sir?"

"I suppose so. See what inclement weather I've been forced to return to."

Grey, mostly. No new snow, Thor didn't think. But the pale morning light revealed tousled black hair, sleep-soft skin. The robe was black too, the crossing quilt lines picked out in gold thread, making his complexion look all the paler.

Some people liked that kind of thing.

"I'm sure you know her ladyship takes breakfast in the morning room, sir. Will you be joining her?"

"I expect so. Thank you, Thor. Could I have some warm water prepared for afterwards?"

"Certainly, sir. Would you like a bath or a basin?"

"Both."

Of course he did.


	5. Contact

Mother was rather scandalised by his appearance.

"Not dressed for breakfast?" she said. "What if we have unexpected guests?"

"Oh, Mother, I'm sure no one would be so uncouth as to visit before eleven. I am at home and I intend to take a bath afterwards. There's no sense in getting dressed only to get undressed again."

"Quite right," Father said, not so much spooning as ladling out jam. "If a man can't be comfortable in his own home, where can he be?"

A rare agreement. Loki would take it.

"Have I any duties today?" he asked. "Are we expected anywhere?"

"No, I thought you might prefer to settle in. Unpack. You seem to have brought quite a number of bags."

And there it was. A subtle chastisement but there nonetheless.

"I felt it was better to be prepared for a variety of eventualities. And I brought some decorations for the tree."

They looked at him, confused.

"The tree in the church," he said. "Delightful though the paper decorations are, I felt a little shine might be appropriate. For the children. Since they don't light candles on it."

"And quite right too," Laufey said. "Much too dangerous. The whole place could go up in seconds. They had the very same thing happen in Gloucester only a few years ago..."

Loki let his voice roll over him. He'd heard this story many times. How the paper roses and the fir had gone up like gunpowder, that everyone was lucky to get out alive, a miracle that no one was killed. The Advent candles were bad enough.

He still wanted them to have their own tree. He'd decided he didn't much care for religion but he enjoyed the trappings of the season and the hymns were pretty.

When he was in charge, he'd have a tree. He'd put it in the foyer, the very first thing any visitor would see. Covered in candied fruit and crystals, glass baubles with gold and silver. Sparkling and beautiful.

Thor was pouring a large kettle of steaming water into the old tin bath when he arrived back to his room, a little smear of something on his face.

Loki tried to wipe it away, Thor practically leaping back from him.

"You have a mark."

A quick scrub of his face didn't do much to shift it.

"It's porridge, sir. From breakfast."

It was charming to see him on the back foot so. A little break in his armour of propriety.

"Will you wash my hair for me, Thor?"

He'd never seen someone sigh with just their eyes before. It was rather impressive. He must have worked hard to keep his face as blank as possible, but you could still see the thoughts if you looked closely.

"Certainly, sir."

They weren't ready for nudity yet, Loki felt, but there was no harm in teasing. He turned away and took off his robe, unbuttoning his pyjamas just enough to reveal a little of his shoulders. His neck. And then he dragged his desk chair over to the ablution basin, resting back against it.

He could feel Thor's hesitation, standing beside him for a moment before taking off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves. Even such a small piece of bare skin was enough to make Loki's heart rate increase just a little.

Those hands... So big, so strong. He almost expected a spark to fly as Thor poured a little water over his head and started rubbing soap into his hair.

"So, tell me about yourself, Thor."

A pause, gentle fingers against his scalp.

"Not much to tell, sir."

"Oh, there must be something. Your parents. Brothers and sisters. A sweetheart."

"I'm an orphan, sir. I have my father's name but no memory of him. No brother or sister that I know about. And I don't have the time to be wooing anyone, even if I wanted to."

"Not fond of company?"

"I like company fine. I just haven't met the right person."

Hmm. Interesting. And clearly Thor wasn't going to ask him anything in return. No, no. That would be much too prying.

"I'm much the same, I feel," Loki said. "I left someone in Italy and no doubt I'll have already been replaced by the time I get back. But that's alright. I shan't be heartbroken or anything. And maybe I can do some replacing of my own."

Thor didn't respond, just continuing to wash his hair, massaging his skin.

"Mm. That feels nice."

Was he laying it on too thick? Maybe. This was meant to be a seduction after all. You had to be subtle.

But then again, time was short and he didn't want to waste it.

He licked his lips, sighing gently, opening his eyes.

"You have very nice hands."

Thor poured the remaining water from the jug over him, rinsing away the suds.

"Your bath water will be getting cold, sir," he said, perfunctorily drying his hands and snatching up his jacket. "I'll leave you in peace."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Loki alone and confused.

And it had all been going so well...


	6. Decisions, Decisions

Thor was baffled as much as anything. He didn't know what was up, what was down. Loki was definitely trying to get a reaction from him, and there was no mistaking what kind of reaction, but to what end? For fun?

Well, certainly for fun, but it was a dangerous game. Surely he knew that.

Didn't he know that? They didn't know each other. You couldn't attempt to seduce anyone you met, even if you found them attractive. There was far too much risk.

Thor had rules. You didn't do... such things with people you worked for. It was too dangerous, too messy. He wouldn't be the first servant to be dismissed after a love affair grew stale.

There was the risk that Loki might be offended by his refusal, of course. So it couldn't get that far. He was just going to have to feign ignorance of his attentions. Pretend he didn't know what was happening. And soon enough, Loki would be gone, back to batting lashes and breaking hearts in Europe.

Work was good and useful, taking his mind off everything, sweeping the hallway, taking the dogs out for a walk, coming back suitably exercised himself.

Only to find that Loki had ensconced himself in the kitchen. This was highly irregular. The kitchen was practically sacred ground. Laufey might pass through when bringing his pets in, but her ladyship would never be seen below stairs. It wasn't right somehow.

"Oh, excellent," Loki said. "You can help with the ribbons."

Thor carefully removed his winter boots and coat, aware that his hair was damp and curling slightly thanks to a few heavy drips from trees.

"Ribbons, sir?"

"I'm making up Christmas baskets for the tenant houses. Ribbons for the young girls, chalks for the boys. Though I think it's dreadfully unfair; what if one of the little gentlemen wants to look pretty?"

"Or the girls want to draw, sir," Angerboda said, cutting parsnips at the other end of the table.

"Well, exactly."

It was somewhat more delicate work than Thor was used to, measuring and snipping silk and looping the lengths. Mesmeric. He could almost ignore the way Loki was looking at him from beneath hooded eyelids.

No, not Loki. Mr Laufeyson. He should try to think of him like that, detached.

"I wasn't sure if you'd know your numbers," he was saying. "For the tape measure."

"All credit to my matron's unfailing determination to teach us, sir. She knew the importance of reading and writing. Knowing how much money you have, what it adds up to."

In previous jobs, he'd quite liked his employers not knowing that he could read exactly who the lady of the house was writing to. It gave him at least a sense of control over his life.

Charitable baskets though. Hmm. A nice thought, certainly, but Thor knew the people out in the cottages, or at least he knew people like them. The children would be grateful, but the adults might well be insulted.

Then again, it wasn't like there was money amongst it. Little presents for children, some jam for each household. There might be a few eyebrows raised, but maybe it wouldn't be quite the imposition he was imagining.

He finished the ribbons, a little scrap left over, not quite as long as the rest.

"Will that be all, sir?"

"Could you unpack the rest of my bags for me? There are a few I haven't got to just yet."

"Of course, sir."

He tried to leave, looking forward to being blessedly alone, but found himself called back.

"Try on the end of the ribbon," Loki said. "I think it will suit you."

At least Thor was practised enough to do this himself, even if it did feel like something of a humiliation. He could only make a very stubby bow.

Angerboda shrugged when he looked to her for judgement.

"You look very dashing."

Hmm.

"Thank you, sir."

He checked for himself in the mirror on arrival in Loki's room. Maybe the red did look rather striking. Brought out some of the colour in his cheeks.

Folding clothes and carefully putting them away. Right. This he could do.

And he definitely wasn't paying attention to the fact that the only bag left was the one containing all of Loki's small clothes. Or noticing that they were pretty small ones at that.

Not at all.


	7. Discussions

Loki was having a delightful time. He was warmly wrapped up against the cold - well, more or less. Admittedly this coat was far better at showing off his figure than padding him against the chill, but no matter. More importantly, Thor was ferrying him from cottage to cottage to hand out his gifts.

He felt like St Nicholas himself, if surely a little more glamorous, and Thor was his faithful servant.

At least he seemed to like being outdoors, steering the little open pony trap along, waiting politely outside while Loki paid brief calls to each house.

And, helpfully, he had a memory for the precise make-up of all the tenant families. How many children, their names and approximate ages. Very useful, especially as Loki could pretend he'd known all along, casually slipping questions into conversation.

"How do you remember all this?" Loki asked as Thor reeled off another list of youngsters.

"I grew up with a lot of other children. It was useful to be able to remember the names. Someone had to make sure they were all present and correct at bedtime."

What a different life. Loki had never really been around other children. Or other people really. It had all been private tutors and being seen but not heard.

Which was probably why he was such a dreadful hedonist now, exploring all the pleasures life, and particularly others, could show him.

He came out of his final house call, glad to have been spared children's sticky fingers, noting the approaching thick white cloud and the fading light.

"I suppose we should get back," he said. "It will be dark soon."

"Very good, sir."

Thor clicked his tongue, easing the pony into motion, setting off along the country road. If it could even be called a road. More like a bridleway.

"Take the route over the hill," Loki said. "The house looks wonderful from up there at this time of year."

"Very good, sir."

Even though he couldn't be seen, Loki glared a little at the back of Thor's head, the blonde tail emerging beneath the base of his hat. A shabby black top hat. Hideous. Really, he ought to have it replaced.

"Is that all you're planning to say to me?"

A pause. Really? Was he truly so stubborn?

"Would you rather I refused your order, sir? I'm sure that could be arranged."

Ooh. Sparky.

"You're lucky you're handsome enough that I'll forgive that insolence," Loki said without thinking.

They trundled on for a few hundred yards before Thor cleared his throat.

"I don't mean to speak out of turn, sir, but I feel you might be more cautious when expressing opinions about the appearance of other men. Someone could get the wrong idea."

Ah. So he wasn't unconscious to Loki's efforts after all. How interesting.

"Perhaps I want them to get the wrong idea."

"But surely you must know how dangerous that is."

"I hardly think you'd report me."

"Because you could have me dismissed if I did."

"Well, that. And I've noticed how you look at me."

A long, long pause.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Loki smiled smugly at his back and let him stew. He'd slipped just a little. He wasn't even saying "sir" so frequently, so compulsively.

The snow up here was satisfyingly crunchy beneath the wheels of the trap, a steady, dull sound, the hoofbeats of the pony like pleasant little accents against it.

If it wasn't so cold, it would be perfect, the glow of the last hour or so of sunlight sparkling through the crystals blown from spindly bare branches. A hundred little twinkles with every breath of wind.

Loki held his gloved hands firmly within his sleeves, hugging himself, waiting for the house to appear.

Just around the next corner...

"Stop," he said, jumping down and surveying all that he would one day be master of, sighing happily.

Jotunheim House really did look particularly wonderful in the snow, like an enormous Turkish delight upon the finest patisserie, artfully dusted with icing sugar.

"It does look fine, doesn't it?" Loki said.

"Indeed, sir."

Was that all he had to say?

"Have you ever worked in such a grand house, Thor?"

"I dare say all the houses I have worked in have been grand, sir."

"But as grand as here?"

"Jotunheim is certainly the largest, sir. I could not pretend to know enough about architectural matters to have any further opinion."

He was annoyed and trying had to hide it, trying to keep it out of his voice, but Loki could hear it. A hint of harshness there. He didn't like that he wasn't as subtle as he'd like to believe.

Maybe if he got annoyed enough, he might snap and ravish him.

Maybe not out here, though. It was a little cold for that.

Loki clambered back onto his seat, looking forward to being back inside with a welcoming fire and a hot cup of tea.

He might have known that something would spoil his plans.

It happened as they crested a ridge, something in the trap making the most concerning creaking sound before the whole thing lurched to one side, the pony whinnying in alarm.

And one wheel was suddenly at a decidedly worrying angle...

"Don't move," Thor said urgently, stepping down from the driver's bench. "We may be on unstable ground."

"What do you mean, unstable?" Loki asked, clinging to the opposite side of the trap.

"I don't know. Maybe a landslip some time before the snow fell. A displaced boulder or something. Could be dangerous."

He was carefully testing the ground before placing his feet as he cautiously made his way round, trying to push the wheel back onto the axel, sighing out a great huff of air.

"No. We'll need help to shift this. The pony couldn't even drag it out by herself, I don't think. It's stuck fast."

"What? Then... Then how are we going to get back?"

Thor looked up at him incredulously.

"Well, walk, of course."

Not even being seized around the waist by strong hands and half lifted down from the trap could help Loki's building sense of horror.

_"Walk?!"_


	8. Freezing

Anyone would think Loki had never walked anywhere in his life from the way he was complaining about it.

Thor had unhitched the pony from the trap and was cautiously leading her down the hill, focussing on not slipping. Meanwhile Loki was saying something about being miles from home, that it was going to be dark soon, that they couldn't possibly make it.

There was snow beginning to fall, to be fair to him. Quite heavy snow.

"No one knows we came this way," Thor said. "They'll worry if we don't get back and won't know where to look. And it's an easy enough route once we get onto level ground. I would hate to think of your mother panicking, fearing the worst."

Loki tramped a few more steps beside him, definitely pouting.

"Can I ride the pony at least?"

"There's no saddle."

"I'm very good at riding."

Thor tried to resist the immediate images flashing through his head of Loki sitting astride strong hips, rocking and panting in ecstasy.

Any thoughts of cantering needed to leave immediately.

They finally reached the main road, Thor patting the pony gently. She wasn't used to this kind of thing.

"You can try, but if she doesn't like it..."

"Help me."

He ended up being a mounting block, not that Loki really needed it with his height, swinging his leg easily over the pony's flanks. She took a few uncertain steps, but seemed relatively unperturbed. Very calm, very passive. And she could drag much heavier loads.

"Happy?"

Loki frowned at him, his pale skin only just visible in the faded dusk light.

"My toes are cold."

Thor rolled his eyes and took up the bridle, easing the pony into motion. It could only be about two miles to home, but given how slow their progress would be, they'd probably be out an hour or more.

One foot in front of the other, pulling his coat and scarf all the higher to protect the back of his neck from the snow blowing in, huge wet flakes landing all around them, that strange, silent precipitation...

After a long time trudging in silence, darkness falling all around them, he glanced back over his shoulder, finding Loki almost lying on the pony.

"You alright?"

"It's warmer this way."

"Good. We'll get there, I promise."

He didn't know what he'd do if the road became impassable. They couldn't survive the night out here, he didn't think. Not without shelter.

Not that he was going to share those thoughts with Loki. He'd only get scared.

Come to think of it, Thor was scared himself. It was so dark out here, only a sense of the trees to his left convincing him that they were going the right way. It was more or less a straight road, but the snow and night had made it so hard to see.

His breath was almost freezing against his beard even...

"Thor?" Loki said behind him, voice very soft, almost too quiet to hear.

"Yes?"

"M sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry for annoying you."

Ugh...

"Don't worry about it. We're nearly home."

That was something of a lie, though at least soon he expected to see something of the house, lights at windows cutting through the darkness, the promise of warmth and comfort.

"It's just because you're... You're very handsome."

Hmm... He sounded tired. A little confused perhaps. And that was a bad sign, Thor knew, that was a very bad sign. He must have been getting cold for some time and now was dangerously so.

He mustn't sleep. That was the most important thing.

"You're very handsome too," Thor said. "Keep talking to me. Tell me about your Italian sweetheart."

Loki groaned lightly.

"He's not my sweetheart. And he's not Italian, he's... I don't know. From somewhere else. Not England. I don't know."

"What's he like?"

"Big."

Did that mean tall or broad or... something else? And why did he even care?

Keep him talking. Keep him awake.

"How did you meet?" Thor asked.

"In a... A gallery. I saw him looking at me instead of the art. Let him follow me around, here and there. Here and there. All through the great masters, looking at me. I knew... Knew what he wanted. Led him all the way outside. An alley. So we could talk. Went to his rooms that very night."

It was a different world than what he knew, but Thor could see it so clearly. Loki carefully leading a handsome stranger on, maybe doubling back just to be sure he was being trailed, smirking, batting his lashes. Little encouragements. Showing the attention was noted and welcomed.

"And is he sweet to you?"

A sigh.

"Not really."

"That's a shame. You should find someone who is."

Loki huffed.

"He's very passionate. He treats me as I wish."

Thor wasn't totally convinced, but at least they were getting close now, onto the actual driveway. Why was it so long? Why was the house so far from the gate?

"Loki, we're going to be home soon so you need to stop talking about these things. Remember the children we saw today? All the tenants? Talk about them."

"I'm so cold. I want tea."

"And you'll get some, very soon, I promise."

"I want you, Thor."

"I know, but you can't say things like that right now..."

The front doors opened, golden light spilling out like molten butter, a figure hurrying down the steps. Was that... Laufey himself?

"The trap broke, my lord," Thor said. "I fear Mr Laufeyson is suffering from the ill-effects of cold. He's awake but very confused."

He helped Loki down from the pony's back, noting his baffled frown, his cheeks so pale where the cold should be making them pink, like he had no blood left, and gave him over to his father's care.

His duty was getting their loyal steed into the stables, warm from the other horses, feeding her some extra oats as a reward for getting them home.

Only then did he head for the kitchen to deal with himself, giving Angerboda the news and trying to massage some warmth back into his fingers.

He hadn't even noticed how chilled they were.


	9. Recovery

Loki was distantly aware of his father guiding his stumbling feet inside, closing his eyes against the horrible bright light, mumbling complaints as he was eased into the parlour even while dripping half-melted snow everywhere.

"The carpet..."

"Never mind that," Laufey said, kneeling down to unlace his boots. "We need you out of these wet things."

It was like shedding skin, stripping out of his coat and hat, down to his shirt, eased onto the chaise and under a blanket.

Oh, that felt better, but...

"Where's Thor?"

"Odinson is fine, don't worry. Just stay awake."

Hmm... But he was so sleepy.

His mother's arrival stirred him a little, her evident fear, rushing to sit beside him and take his hand. She was so warm, comforting, smelling lightly of lavender.

"Oh, my boy," she kept saying. "My boy, my boy..."

Angerboda arrived with tea, looking a little flustered.

"Sweetened with honey, my lady," she said. "Very good for this kind of thing."

Loki had to submit to being fed it, the china cup delicately tilted against his lips. He could feel it warming him from the inside, easing away a headache he'd somehow barely noted.

"What happened?" his mother asked. "All I've gathered is something about the trap breaking."

Ah. Yes. That was what had happened, wasn't it?

"The wheel..." he said, his voice so strangely weak. "We went over the hill for the view and then it... The axle snapped, I think. And Th... Odinson said we'd have to walk back."

"Maybe you should have walked rather than ridden," his father said, his fear betrayed in his voice just a little. "The exercise would have kept you warm."

"That doesn't matter now," Farbauti said, squeezing Loki's hand. "What's important is that he's home safe."

Yes. And Thor had saved him, more or less. He'd kept him talking, stopped him falling asleep.

And he'd said... some things. Some very interesting things, just on the very edge of Loki's memory. Intriguing to say the least.

He wore his blanket to dinner, feeling rather better but enjoying the comfort it brought him.

Not as much comfort as seeing Thor, of course, wearing his footman's uniform like nothing strange had happened, looking none the worse for wear.

"Odinson," he said as a bowl of hearty smoked fish soup was placed in front of him. "I hope our little adventure has left you unharmed."

"Completely, sir. Nothing a little rest by the oven couldn't solve."

"I'd like to thank you for saving my life."

A slight blush on those cheeks, a little bashfulness.

"No need, sir. It was nothing."

"I fear I may insist on rewarding you at some point."

He watched as Thor swallowed hard, their thoughts no doubt flying to the same place.

"Sir," he said. Nothing more. Hoping to flee back to the kitchen.

Oh, he might pretend to be unaffected, but he wasn't, Loki could tell. And he'd even admitted on the road that he found him attractive too. Of course, that might have been supposed to just keep him awake and alert, but he could have said any number of other things. He'd chosen to say that.

"I don't think you should have port tonight," his mother said. "You ought to be recovering."

"Oh, nonsense," Laufey said. "Good for circulation. Warms the blood."

"A small one, Mother," Loki said, gently squeezing her hand. "Just as a nightcap."

He might have thought he was back in his torpor when she next spoke with how bizarre it seemed.

"Odinson, I trust I can rely on you to ensure Loki's bed is suitably warmed."

What in the _world..._?

"Of course, my lady. I'll have the warming pan there in plenty of time."

Ah. Yes. Of course. Of course that was what she meant. Nothing else.

Though he couldn't deny rather hoping for a more interesting bit of bed warming instead.

He was true to his word, only taking a snifter of port, feeling a little tired. It had been a long and stressful day.

"Gave us quite a fright," Laufey said, sounding far away, half lost in his thoughts.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't intentional."

Something close to a chuckle, shaking his head.

"Even you wouldn't deliberately give yourself a chill."

Something of a criticism there perhaps, but Loki let it pass.

"No," he said. "What fun is having a fuss made of you when you're barely conscious of it?"

"True enough. True enough."

There had always been some tension between him and his father. Loki wasn't even sure what it was about, really. That he hadn't turned out as expected, he supposed, that they pursued different hobbies. Had different interests.

"I just want you to be careful, Loki."

"I know. I'll wrap up more warmly next time."

"That's not what I meant."

He finished his brandy, patting Loki vaguely on the shoulder.

"Goodnight, my son."

A hint of worry settled itself uncomfortably in his stomach as he downed the remains of his port and headed upstairs. Thor was already waiting for him, dampening the fire.

"I hope everything is to your liking, sir. Warmed in advance."

"Thank you."

He had no urge to tease. He genuinely was exhausted, holding out his wrists for help but without making anything of it.

"Are you sure you're feeling quite alright, sir?"

The question wasn't exactly expected. Loki blinked a couple of times, absorbing it.

"How did you know what to do? How did you know you had to keep me talking?"

"I've seen it before, sir. Will that be all?"

Slightly dazed, Loki dismissed him and slipped beneath his deliciously warm blankets, wondering.

There was clearly even more to this newcomer than he'd thought.


	10. Concern

At least that hadn't been an ordeal. In fact, Loki had seemed a little despondent. Unusually so.

Perhaps Sir Laufey had been telling him off for choosing a coat more for fashion than practicality. Or maybe having such danger in your otherwise comfortable life suddenly was enough to shake even him up.

Was that a treacherous bit of disappointment in his breast that Loki hadn't tried to make a pass at him? But surely that wasn't what he wanted. Was it?

Maybe it had been nice to be noticed.

But still. There were rules. And they were very sensible rules that he had for sensible reasons.

He half fell into bed, the day's tiredness overwhelming him, his dreams full of dark hair and warmth...

He woke early, his body roused by his subconscious, his cock thickening without his permission. And he knew exactly what he'd been dreaming of to cause such a response.

And he also knew that he definitely shouldn't allow himself to be tempted to do anything about it. Even if just for relief.

Then again, it would be just to satisfy himself, release some tension. Nothing too dangerous about that.

Sliding his hand beneath the blanket, taking a firm grip on himself, he tried to imagine just what a "reward" from Loki might entail.

Obviously, he didn't _want_ him to sneak into his room and beneath his blankets, tugging his pyjamas down just enough to free his cock, but he could imagine it so clearly. How he'd lick his lips first, leaning forward, eyes up for confirmation that he was doing well.

That's the type he was, Thor could tell. The kind who enjoyed sex for his own pleasure but also to prove himself a skilled lover. He'd enjoy seeing exactly what effect he had, smiling at each moan and sigh.

It was almost funny. He doubtlessly considered himself some kind of expert, but Thor was willing to bet that he was not as experienced as he pretended. Like the youths he'd grown up with who considered themselves Lotharios for having once touched a thigh.

Still, enthusiasm disguised many difficulties. And Loki would be enthusiatic, bobbing his head, trying to take more, keen to make him spill.

It was quick. He didn't have time to luxuriate in fantasy. Too much work to be done.

All the same, he allowed himself a brief moment to bask in the warmth of orgasm.

And then to work. Fires, curtains, clocks, tea...

"If you're free this afternoon, I could use the help," Angerboda said as he wolfed down some of the previous evening's leftovers. "There's a lot of cherries to get through."

"Cherries?"

"Preserved in syrup from the autumn. I need them all cut up and soaked in whisky. It's for the cake."

She was saying all this as though it was perfectly logical. To her, undoubtedly, it was, but Thor was a little confused.

"Whisky cherries in Christmas cake? That's a little unusual."

"Her ladyship prefers Whisky Dundee to the usual fruitcake. It's lighter. Quicker too, mostly, which suits me well, but it's better to make it a few days in advance."

"I'll see what I can do," Thor said, the kettle whistling like a summons.

Loki seemed to be taking full advantage of being an invalid, managing to convince his parents that he ought to take breakfast still in his sleep clothes and half lying on the chaise. His mother was convinced, at least. Laufey, decidedly less so.

"It's how the Romans ate, Father," Loki was saying as Thor entered with the tea tray.

"The Romans did many things that we do not. Their empire fell, remember."

"I doubt their eating habits had much to do with that."

Thor flitted silently about the room, pouring tea, bringing a cup to the low table for Loki, whose eyes never left him. And that was irritatingly gratifying.

"I trust that you're feeling better today, sir," he said, practically kicking himself for it. This was practically encouragement.

"Mostly, thank you. Certainly on the mend."

"Could you ready the dogs, Odinson?" Laufey asked. "I might take them up to the trap, have a look at it in daylight. Assess the damage."

"Of course, sir."

"Now, don't you be freezing yourself sick too," Farbauti said. "I won't have all the gentlemen of the house unwell."

"I won't, dear."

Right. If Laufey was taking the dogs, that would give him enough time to clean the dishes and then help Angerboda.

Assuming Loki didn't decide to amuse himself by giving him a dozen other tasks, of course.


	11. Temptation

Loki finished breakfast leisurely and decided he'd do a bit of reading, a bit of studying, restful and peaceful activities only.

He felt that perhaps something had changed between him and Thor based on breakfast. Maybe saving someone's life made you warm to them a little.

And if it had, surely he felt he ought to keep up his presence, to maintain his interest, even if he didn't have any particular reason to be down in the kitchen.

He sneaked his way down, wanting to see Thor in an unguarded moment, peeking down the stairs.

Was that... whisky?

Thor leapt to his feet the very second he became aware of Loki's presence. It was procedure, drilled into him by Ymir, no doubt.

"Please, sit down," Loki said. "I'm just after more tea. Though you seem to be onto stronger stuff already. So early in the day!"

"It's for the cake, sir," Thor said. "I'll boil the kettle."

"No, no. I am quite capable of making my own, believe it or not."

Everything about Thor's face told him that he didn't remotely believe that, but it wasn't like it was hard. Svaldifari lived something of a Bohemian lifestyle and Loki had learned to brew coffee over the fire, the pot on a little hook. It was much the same.

"Would you like some?"

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Would you like some tea?"

"Oh. Yes, please. Thank you."

He was cutting up cherries, a little jar of them, deseeded and mostly rinsed of syrup, delicately slicing them in half and then placing them in a shallow bowl of whisky. The almost spicy smell of it seemed to tickle Loki's nostrils, watching the way the cherry juice was staining Thor's fingers.

"Where's Angerboda?"

"She and Mr Ymir have gone into town for the last few items on her shopping list, sir."

"Hmm. And Mrs Jarnsaxa is upstairs with my mother. So we're quite alone."

It was a wonder Thor didn't cut himself with the way the knife slipped.

"Yes. I suppose we are."

The tension was only there for a moment before the kettle started whistling, giving Thor a little respite while Loki spooned out tea leaves and set them brewing, finding two cups and the milk jug.

He took the neighbouring seat, carefully pouring, stealing a cherry from the jar.

"They're for the cake," Thor said. "Angerboda won't be happy if you eat them."

Pausing with the fruit halfway to him, Loki had the most dreadful idea, one that was sure to end badly.

He reached over and pressed it to Thor's lips, making him startle and draw back at first before opening his mouth just enough for Loki to slip it in.

The intimacy of touching him like this was intense, heart hammering in Loki's chest as Thor tried to glare at him but chewed all the same, watching as Loki sucked the remaining taste from his fingers.

"You... You really shouldn't do things like that," he said softly.

"Why? Because you like it?"

He shrugged, clearly forced. Loki could tell.

"Doesn't matter if I do or not. I avoid trouble where I can and you have trouble written all over you."

Mm. That sounded almost like a compliment.

"Have you been in trouble before, Thor?"

"With respect, sir, that's my business."

That meant yes. Interesting. So this was not his first waltz, as it were.

Loki sipped his tea, considering. Plotting. Wondering just what he'd have to do to have Thor change his mind.

"I'll be gone soon," he tried. "I'm making a serious proposition, but only for a limited time."

"Pleasure lasts but a moment. Regret is forever."

"Mm. But so are warm memories. I firmly believe that one ought to make a collection of happy images to help with cold nights."

Was that a little pinkness on Thor's cheeks? What did that mean?

"Unless, of course you can rely on your imagination to provide," Loki said, leaning just a little too close.

The door opened behind him in a blast of freezing air, Ymir and Angerboda appearing, paper-wrapped packages in hand.

The moment passed, and Loki tried to frame his feelings as anticipation rather than frustration.

Very, very frustrating anticipation.


	12. Reflection

Had he ever had such an obvious pass made? Thor wasn't sure he had. He was still reeling from it a little.

Maybe this was just how rich people were. Maybe they just said things out loud and damn the consequences.

They could get away with such things. He couldn't necessarily rely on that.

His previous sexual encounters - he wouldn't leap to call any of them romantic as such - had mostly been the result of glances across tables, of head tilts that could easily be denied. One heading to a secluded place, the other following, hardly a word exchanged at all a lot of the time.

The idea of having such a lively, vivacious partner as Loki was appealing, he couldn't deny it.

But the danger... It was all around. Loki was not subtle. He wasn't used to being clandestine, not in any sense that mattered. Oh, he'd find the sense of forbidden passion exciting, but it was not his livelihood, his reputation, his life on the line. He might slip.

Then again, what he'd implied about the man waiting for him in Italy - or not waiting, as the case might be - hadn't exactly made Thor jealous. It didn't sound like he was properly valued. He was enjoying himself, no doubt, but it sounded distinctly like an affair of iniquities.

At least he could say he'd always been on an equal footing with the men he'd been with, both in station and dominance.

It was very alluring to think of showing a relative novice a tender hand, a gentle touch.

And then ease up to roughness if they both wished...

Ugh, he shouldn't even think such things. It wasn't possible. And the sooner Loki learned that, the better.

At least he'd made himself scarce under Ymir's stony gaze, disapproving of upstairs and downstairs mingling too much, even if he wouldn't actually say anything in Loki's presence.

Thor helped as best he could with the blanching and peeling and roasting and grinding of almonds, Angerboda picking out the ones she felt were the most attractive to be placed on top of the cake in an intricate pattern.

"Was he bothering you?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"Loki. Was he bothering you?"

"Oh. No, no. I think he's just in want of company, to be honest. He's far from Italy now. Even the pale imitation of conversation that I can provide must appeal."

"Mm. I suppose that's true."

The butler's office door clicked shut. Ymir spying on them, checking up on them. Thor felt the fear rush up his back and he wasn't sure what of exactly - of being suspected of talking to the young master too freely or of anything more untoward.

That was what Loki didn't understand. It wasn't enough not to be caught. You had to avoid even the suspicion. It was like with the spirits - if there was even a hint that he was sneaking a sip of whisky or a drop of brandy, he'd be out without references before he could blink.

Of course, Loki could have him thrown out too. But that would be too easy. He wanted the chase, wanted the conquest.

So what should he do? Play along? Let Loki think he was succeeding?

But he'd be much more likely to be too tempted though. He'd weaken. He'd succumb.

No. No, he should be open. He should make it clear why this was an impossibility.

He firmed up his resolve during dinner and pouring the evening drinks, and even further while preparing the bed warmer. A short conversation, that was all. To make things clear. Nip this in the bud.

Loki did not arrive at the usual time. He heard Laufey and Farbauti retiring, Ymir and Mrs Jarnsaxa returning back along the corridor.

Where was he? Where could he have got to?

Oh...

Oh, no...

Thor took the stairs quickly and quietly, up to his room, hoping that he was wrong, hoping that no one would see him so flustered.

He opened his door with a horrible sense of dread.

There were clothes laid on the back of his chair, a candle lit, and Loki sitting up against his headboard.

His hair was loose and beautiful, his skin lit gold in the candlelight, Thor unable to resist staring at his nipples and the faint hint of body hair just above the blankets.

"Good evening," he said.

Thor looked at him for a moment and then closed the door.


	13. Skirmish

Loki's heart pounded as he watched Thor close the door behind him and turn the key in the lock, calm as he removed his jacket. Had he judged this correctly? He'd have preferred to be standing up so as to show his body to better effect, but it was surprisingly cold up here. He needed the blankets.

He only just had time to move his legs out of the way as Thor joined him on the bed, prowling towards him with fiery eyes, enough to frighten him almost. Thor was very strong. If he was offended...

A hand in his hair, pulling gently but firmly, forcing his head back, his breath coming in short little bursts.

"Is this what you want?" Thor growled, close enough that he could feel the heat of his breath.

"Yes," Loki gasped.

He tried to lunge for Thor's lips, being easily held back in a way that made his heart race. This was what he wanted, he wanted to be treated roughly and manhandled, he wanted to feel it in the morning...

Thor sighed, clearly wanting, fighting with himself.

"This can't happen," he said softly.

No, no, no...

"It can," Loki said. "No one will know. You're my valet, we can be alone so often without anyone questioning it."

Thor retreated, getting up, huffing and running a hand down his face.

"You don't understand," he said. "You can weather a scandal. I can't. This is the food on my plate, the roof over my head. So as much as I might... want to..."

"I can protect you. If anything happens, I'll write your references myself. But nothing will. They're all asleep."

"As we should be."

The distance was clearly to try to resist temptation, but Loki had another weapon in his arsenal.

He threw back the blankets, watching as Thor's eyes flicked down his body, getting up and stalking towards him.

"Are you sure you want me to leave?"

He dropped to his knees, looking upwards, knowing how he must look. Wanton. Lewd almost. Kneeling with obvious intent.

"Let me make you feel good, Thor," he murmured. "Use me as you wish."

He could see the beginning of a distinct bulge in Thor's breeches, daring to reach for the buttons, only to have his hands grabbed. Hard.

Thor pulled him to his feet, somehow managing to get both his wrists into one hand so he could use the other to grasp his neck. He must be able to feel his heartbeat, so fast, so loud in his ears.

"If you want me to take charge of this, you'll have to understand what that means."

And with that he kissed him, finally, enough to make Loki almost swoon.

Yet it wasn't the bruising force that he'd expected and wanted. It was almost... tender. Soft. He pressed their mouths together chastely at first, closed, and then the tiniest hint of tongue.

Loki was confused. He'd anticipated something different.

And then Thor drew back, gently running a thumb over his lips, releasing him.

"Go to bed, sir," he said.

Loki reeled.

"You're really going to send me away?"

"Yes. Good night, sir."

"And... And what does this mean?"

Thor raised his eyebrows, undoing one button of his shirt.

"It means that anything we do will be on my terms. I have the most to lose. And right now, I am losing sleep. Good night, sir."

Loki's cheeks burned as he threw on his clothes, and yet also he'd made progress. He could still feel the ghost of Thor's lips, the taste of him.

"Last chance," he said, unlocking the door.

Thor smiled.

"I'll see you in the morning, sir."

Sneaking downstairs in the dark, he felt like a newborn colt, shaken almost. He'd been so sure that Thor would take him there and then, and yet they seemed to have entered into a different game, one where he didn't know the rules.

But there had been talk of doing things together, on Thor's say so.

And that meant his seduction had been successful.

So, really, he was winning.


	14. New Rules

Thor woke in a daze still, trying to work out if the previous evening had all been some kind of dream. Had that really been him? Had he really done that, really said those things, really made that offer? This was madness.

And yet, if he was honest, the idea of being the one in control...

Well, he'd be lying if he pretended it didn't appeal.

He washed and got dressed, heading downstairs. The kitchen still smelled deliciously of cake, which it often did to be fair, but not quite like this. Not all warm spice and sharp alcohol and sweetness, the very scent of the season.

No sooner had he put the kettle onto the stove, Loki's bell began ringing. The tone of it had oddly become fixed in his mind in recent days.

"I'll take the breakfast tray up," Angerboda said, tying her apron. "You see to him while the water boils. They won't be down yet anyway."

"Thank you."

To his surprise, Loki was already out of bed, opening the curtains for himself. Not dressed, but it was a start.

"Yes, sir?"

"Good morning."

Thor hovered in the doorway, waiting for further instructions.

"Can I help you with anything, sir? You rang."

"My cufflinks. And I was rather hoping for..."

He tapped his lips with the tip of one elegant finger. So presumptive! Summoning him here with such confidence that he'd get whatever he wanted!

"I thought I had made my position quite clear last night," Thor said, opening the wardrobe and laying out a shirt on the bed.

"Well, yes. But don't ask, don't get."

He had Thor putting on his clothes almost as it he was incapable, batting his lashes. Trying to tempt him. Quite blatant, really. And Thor did his best to be unaffected, but it was difficult when he could feel the heat of Loki's skin as he did up his buttons.

The pout began somewhere around the cravat tying and only grew more prominent as his cufflinks were carefully clicked into place.

"Really?" he asked. "I'm forbidden even this?"

Thor considered fixing him with a stern glare but settled for brushing off his shoulders instead, avoiding looking at his face. Cool and dispassionate, hiding the desire nudging at the back of his mind.

"Perhaps, later, I might consider it," he said. "Breakfast is now served, sir."

Loki narrowed his eyes, but at the same time, he seemed excited. Enticed.

Maybe no one had ever told him no before. Maybe that was exciting for him. Or maybe he just enjoyed being bossed around.

Thor found himself distracted all day by thoughts of what he was going to do. He'd start so gently. He'd felt Loki's eagerness the previous night, and how confused he'd been by a sweet kiss. He'd clearly only ever been taken roughly. And that was all very well, but there were other options.

Gentleness, tenderness, that was how he'd begin. Soft kisses and caresses, make him sigh and relax, and if he wanted to be entered, Thor would take his time to open him so slowly, make sure he was completely ready and then a little more and then he'd watch his face as he filled him...

"Thor? Are you listening?"

"Uh..."

"Are you feeling alright?" Angerboda asked. "You're not coming down with anything, are you?"

"No, no," Thor said, forcing his mind back to polishing the silver. "Must just be the fumes, you know."

"Oh, I know. Makes me feel ill, that stuff."

"What were you saying?"

"The goose will be arriving this afternoon. The butcher's boy will deliver it personally, but I wouldn't mind assistance with preparing it."

"Always ready to help out if I can."

"Excellent," she said, producing a huge pestle and mortar. "Once you're finished with the cutlery, could you grind up herbs for the stuffing?"

"Which ones?"

"All of them."

Bold, but he was sure she knew what she was doing.

He wished the work and taking the dogs out distracted him, but really his mind kept drifting back to imagining slow, slow thrusts, being so gentle and careful, Loki's back arching beneath him.

It was a surprise to see a tall figure standing out among the snow on his return. Loki? But he'd been avoiding coming outside ever since their little adventure in the trap.

Was he... trying to cut holly?

"Ow!"

"Hey, careful," Thor said. "What are you doing?"

A sigh.

"Mother and Father insist that we won't have a tree, but I thought a festive centerpiece for the table..."

Hmm. A strange whim, but alright.

"Let me take the dogs in and then I'll come help you."

He borrowed a pair of scissors from Angerboda's drawer of tools. Might be safer than the pen knife Loki was weilding.

He'd gathered a little bundle of evergreen branches and mistletoe sprigs, ivy as well, but the holly was evidently more troublesome.

Thor handed over the scissors and let himself be used as a pack horse, layered up with foliage.

"It's an ancient tradition, you know," Loki said. "Bringing the outside in for midwinter. The living plant, the green. And, of course, it's all about fertility and whatnot. These things always are. You must have had at least holly when you were young."

"Not that I recall," Thor said. "We had candles of dyed wax sometimes. I'm not sure they could have found much holly in the city."

"And in your other employments?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. My last place had the most beautiful tree. The children of the house made paper garlands for it. Little sugar mice on strings. They had to put them higher up to stop the little ones stealing them and making themselves sick."

It seemed a long time ago, last Christmas.

"Why did you leave?"

"They decided they didn't need two footmen."

That was the truth of the matter, really. They hadn't dismissed him or anything. He'd seen the way things were going and decided he'd be better to leave.

"So why did they sack you and not the other one?" Loki asked, turning towards the house. "What did you do?"

"I resigned. The other footman was in love with the eldest daughter's maid. I couldn't let them be separated when it was in my power to prevent it. I can cope on my own, land on my feet."

He could almost feel the waves of amusement rolling out from Loki, even though he couldn't see his face.

"I wouldn't have thought you so romantic, Thor," he said.

"I have my moments, sir."


	15. Revealing

"With the greatest respect, sir, I can't have you cutting up mistletoe on the kitchen table," Angerboda said, something bubbling away on the stove. "It's deadly poisonous, that stuff."

Loki was secretly quite pleased to be alone with Thor, taking their spoils up to the library.

A crackling fire, the smell of old books, fresh tea and the private company of an attractive young man - what could be better?

Well... Apart from a guarantee that they would not be disturbed. As it was, he was content to nurse his pricked fingers and watch Thor trying to bring his vision to life. A ring of alternating holly and mistletoe, the red berries and then white, filled out with brush and laced with ivy.

He was quite skilled with the twine they'd managed to cadge from the garden supplies. The days of box hedges were long gone. No one would miss it. And watching strong hands being so gentle, not crushing the leaves, making them into a beautiful spiral.

And the peace surely begged for him to ask a few innocent questions.

"When I was... cold," Loki said carefully. "You said you'd seen something like it before."

"Yes," Thor said, twisting a sprig of hedge. "I have."

Loki waited for a moment, waited for him to elaborate.

"When?" he asked after the pause had gone on much too long for his liking.

"In the children's home. There was a bad winter. The boy in the bed next to me got... confused and rambly. Kept taking off his pyjamas. And then he got tired. And he never woke up."

"Why would you take off your clothes if you're cold?"

"I don't know. It's part of the sickness. The matron had seen it many times. Advised us to huddle together, save warmth. Tell her if anyone else started to sound odd."

That sounded awful and Loki had absolutely no idea what to say. What did you say to something like that?

"I'm sorry."

Thor shrugged.

"I didn't know him. He was new."

"Did you not have a fire?"

"The fumes are deadly if the chimney gets blocked. No fires in the dormitories. But it taught me a lot."

"Like what?"

He shrugged again, wrapping ivy, evasive.

"To look out for the other kids more carefully. To notice when something wasn't right, try to help."

Loki didn't want to think that was an alien concept to him - because it wasn't, he was well aware of the importance of charity and so on - but evidently he hadn't had as much opportunity for such acts. He was hardly wading through shivering children.

Still. Protecting his fellow orphans and sacrificing his career for another man's love? There was a degree of self-sacrifice there. A strong desire to take care of others.

No wonder he first started paying attention to Loki's overtures after his little turn in the cold.

"There," Thor said, holding up the wreath. "Satisfactory?"

"Beautiful," Loki said. "Thank you. My finger still hurts though. Could you kiss it better?"

Thor fixed him with a withering look, an expression he was growing very used to.

"No, sir. I could not. But perhaps later. Right now, I'm required to help with the goose."

Loki would take that.

And as such, he was practically shaking with anticipation all through dinner. It would be tonight, he could feel it.

If he had the time, he'd prepare himself in advance. Thor could beat him there, though.

Maybe he'd even be warming the bed...

"It's very striking, darling," his mother was saying, eying the centrepiece warily. "Rustic, but charming. I do worry about insects though."

"There won't be any insects, Mother. They're all asleep for winter. Don't worry."

"But what if you've woken them by bringing them into the house?"

"I haven't seen any so far and if there's so much as a hint of them, I'll take it outside."

"It's no different to flowers, dear," Laufey said. "I rather like it. A bit of the outdoors."

That would appeal. Still, a fine day all round and Loki retired with a strong sense of anticipation dancing in his chest.

Thor stood impassively just inside the room, helping with his cufflinks, his cravat, folding his shirt. Locking the door. Acting unaffected in a way a slight tinge to his cheeks betrayed was not true.

Standing shirtless before him, Loki tried not to shiver. Tried to simply be present. Available for... whatever.

"Are you going to be good, sir?" Thor asked eventually, still in that no-nonsense servant voice, the one that wasn't really him.

Loki considered for a moment.

"Define good."

"Well... I will be deciding what we do and how we do it. You might make suggestions, but I will not accept demands. Do you understand?"

"How do you feel about begging?" Loki asked, feeling almost intoxicated by how very, very close he was to getting what he wanted.

"Begging, sir?"

Dropping his voice to a breathy whisper, Loki leaned close, aiming for an approximation of what he hoped to be saying before too long.

"Oh, Thor, please, don't stop. Please, please, I need it harder..."

Thor was blushing, but Loki elected not to tease. They were so nearly there!

"I would allow it," he said. "Take off your trousers."

Loki practically tore them in excitement, taking off his small clothes too, bending in a way that he knew showed him to good effect. His cock was already beginning to show interest in proceedings.

For a moment, Thor simply stared at him and then finally, _finally,_ started removing his own clothes too.

Oh, he was even better than Loki had imagined. All breadth and the promise of strength, firm thighs, a thick cock among golden curls that he yearned to feel inside him. Even in his mouth, he didn't much care, just in him.

"May I touch?" he asked, trying to be obedient.

"Alright."

Offered an inch, he took a mile, his hands rushing to Thor's chest first, the tight little nipples there, knowing how sensitive his own were, and then almost immediately to his cock, feeling it grow in his hand.

He tried to drop to his knees again, but Thor would not allow it, pulling him flush and giving him another of those soft, confusing kisses.

"I'm no maiden, Thor. You don't need to cosset me."

"But I want to. Come."

Loki was completely lost as he lay on the bed. Thor seemed content to simply touch him, long, gentle carresses up and down his body, no slaps, no pinches or scratches. And it felt...

Well, good, yes, but also like he was a china cup. Precious and breakable.

And then he moved to kissing him. On his mouth at first, deep and commanding, enough to have his cock twitching, but then down his body.

"What are you doing?" Loki murmured.

"I'm trying to show you how beautiful you are."

Hmm. Well. But...

"I'm more beautiful when I'm getting fucked."

A sudden look, sharp, crawling up to loom over him, his heart rabbit fast suddenly.

And then a soft kiss on the lips. Another, another...

"I'll fuck you when I'm ready, not a moment before."

"But... But you will? Tonight?"

"Depends if you're good or not."

Loki gazed into his eyes and considered his options.

"I'll be good."


	16. A First

This was definitely a bad idea and yet Thor couldn't stop. The feeling of Loki's skin beneath his lips was intoxicating, able to really take his time in a way that he had seldom had the luxury of. And what luxury it was. Like kissing warm silk.

Every sigh, every sound was like the finest music, a symphony just for him, even as Loki seemed completely baffled by everything he did.

He'd clearly expected something rough, something quick and unfeeling.

Not that Thor was feeling anything other than desire, of course. But what desire it was... He was forcing himself to go slowly, to savour it, even the scent of Loki so wondrous, so familiar already in a way he felt might never leave his nostrils.

And the sound when he ran his tongue gently up his cock... A surprised sound, like he hadn't expected it.

"Do you like that?"

"I... I don't know..."

"Don't know? But surely..."

"I've never... He doesn't like to..."

Oh. Well, of course, no one should do anything not to their preference, but all the same, that hardly seemed fair. Loki clearly used his mouth frequently and he'd never experienced reciprocation?

Another pass of his tongue, another sweet little cry, his chest already heaving when they'd barely begun. Oh, he was divine, perfect in a way that made Thor want to show him all kinds of pleasures, to find out how beautifully he would fall apart.

"I could finish you this way," Thor said, idly stroking him. "If you'd like to try it."

"I thought you were in charge."

"I am, but that doesn't mean I won't ask first."

It was interesting to see him war with himself. He was clearly curious, clearly keen, and yet he wanted something else too.

"We could do this now and other things next time?" Thor suggested.

"Will there be a next time?"

Thor was certain of it, but he didn't want to play his hand so soon.

"Only if..."

"If I'm good, yes, yes, I know... Do it then, show me what it's like."

That almost sounded like demanding, but he was clearly a little overwhelmed and so Thor didn't pull him up on it. He simply leant forward, gently tasting him at first, the salt and the bitterness that showed how effective he was being, finally wrapping his lips around Loki's shaft and sucking...

Loki whimpered and writhed, his thighs on either side of Thor's head like pillars of marble. Thor would enjoy making them pink, but another time. For now, he was focussed entirely on what kind of response he could draw with just his mouth. And a little of his hand.

Those sounds! They'd follow him into his dreams. The quick breathing, the little moans, evident pleasure.

The fingers that laced into his hair felt more anchoring than trying to control him, setting a firm, steady pace, enough to have Loki panting desperately, grip growing tighter, almost thrusting into his mouth.

"Thor..." he was murmuring, "Thor, Thor," and that was only spurring him on all the more, using all he knew to drive him higher and higher until he gave a slight yelp and Thor was swallowing his spend.

A warning would have been nice, but you couldn't have everything.

"Now you," Loki said, slightly breathless. "Please, I want to."

"Alright," Thor said, like his cock wasn't twitching and very, very hopeful.

It was exactly as he had expected. Loki wanted reinforcement, wanted to know how well he was doing, but he was also rough with himself, pushing down further than Thor felt was comfortable, having to take occasional deep gulps of air.

"Hey," he said. "Hey, gentler."

"Did I get you with my teeth?"

"No, no, just... Little bobs?"

This seemed alien to him. Had he really begun so... so advanced? It seemed like too much. And really unnecessary.

"You could fuck my face, if you wish," Loki said.

Yes, that might be better. He'd have control over the pace and depth. He ended up with Loki kneeling in front of him, as he had kept trying to, his hands tangled in jet black hair, carefully thrusting forwards. Warm, wet, gazing up at him. Wanting reassurance.

"You feel so good," Thor said. "You're perfect."

Loki sucked all the harder, a smile around his eyes, proud. And maybe he'd been right about warm memories. Thor wasn't going to forget the night the young master sucked his cock any time soon.

"I'm close," he said. "Can I...?"

Loki made a confused sound, a hum that had him bucking forward, but this was important.

"Can I spill in your mouth?"

"Mm-hm."

Well, alright, then. He was speeding up, chasing it, feeling so lewd and decadent, finally letting go with an uncharacteristic moan.

Watching Loki spit into his chamber pot afterwards wasn't exactly what he'd anticipated.

"I didn't have to if you dislike the taste," Thor said.

"What?"

"If you don't like it, you didn't have to let me. I could have finished in there if you preferred."

A completely baffled look, a smirk and Thor found himself with a lapful of warm body. Very nice warm body.

"You liked it, though."

It was almost a question. Needy for praise. Thor ran his hands up Loki's thighs.

"I did. And you did too?"

"Of course. And next time you'll actually...?"

"If that's what you want."

A bitten lip, an utterly wanton look.

"Yes, please. I can hardly wait. I've already been dreaming of your cock filling me."

Thor hesitated, drawing back as Loki tried to kiss him.

"You know... You can do it other ways than just rough. If that's what you enjoy then that's all well and good, but you shouldn't do it just because you think someone else expects it."

Loki frowned at him, tilting his head.

"I'm not," he said.

Thor wished he was confident of that as he granted him a few final kisses, dressed and left to spend the night in his own bed.


	17. More Tea?

Sleeping did not help with Loki's confusion. What had that meant? What had any of it meant? What was all that about not enjoying roughness?

He did enjoy it.

Fair enough, he'd never actually tried any other kind of bed play, but that didn't matter. He knew what he liked and he'd found it right away.

If Thor wanted him to experiment then he'd go along with it to get what he wanted, but any concerns for his wellbeing were rather misplaced. For goodness' sake, he was acting as though Svaldifari mistreated him or something. And it wasn't like that. It wasn't.

Actually experiencing someone else taking him into their mouth had been very pleasant though. He had known it would be, but he had never thought it might be offered so freely.

Thor really was surprising him more and more.

He had breakfast in something of a daze, vaguely agreeing to accompany his mother to visit the new vicar before the evening Christmas Eve service. She wanted to see what kind of man he was. Terribly boring, Loki had no doubt, but they could walk easily and that would be pleasant enough.

He was almost frightened to look at Thor. He felt... known somehow now, unshielded, undressed. He'd given up a part of himself unexpectedly. It was just meant to be fun and now something else was happening. He was learning something new about himself.

As though he could read his mind, Thor had already prepared him a bath, but was full of apologies.

"I'm not avoiding you, sir, it's just that Angerboda needs as much help as I can give her today."

"Why would you be avoiding me?"

A shrug.

"I don't know. I just didn't want you to think I was. Sir."

"Well, then I promise not to think that you are."

A nod and he was gone, leaving Loki to strip and slip into the delightfully warm water.

What did he mean, making sure he didn't think he was being avoided? Why would he care if Thor had other duties to attend to? That was to be expected. It was his job.

Maybe he'd had a bad experience with a previous affair. Some lover getting all dewy eyed and jealous. But surely he couldn't think Loki was that type. He just wanted a good time, a little pleasure, a bit of warmth in the depths of winter. He wasn't looking for any grand love.

It didn't matter. Just misplaced concern. Honestly, it was probably better that he was thinking about these things. It boded well for an amicable separation when the time came.

He combed back his wet hair, hoping it would dry quickly enough, getting dressed in a far more sober fashion than he normally favoured. Black on black. He didn't want to be lectured on modesty or propriety by a country vicar.

Besides, he still looked striking, in a subtle way.

It was nice to walk out with his mother, giving her his arm for extra support that she didn't really need, aware that they were both so handsome. She kept her hair so neatly beneath a bonnet, framing her face, making her bright eyes all the more evident.

"It really is wonderful to have you here with us," she said as they made their way down toward the rectory. "I've missed you so."

A little guilt stirred within him. Just a hint.

"I write as often as I can," he said uncertainly, knowing that wasn't quite true.

"Oh, I know. I know. And you're working very hard. It's just different, not having you here. Your father feels much the same, not that he'd ever admit it."

"It will only be a couple more years and then I'll be home for good."

"I know. They just seem like very long years."

He was glad to arrive and put a stop to this direction of conversation, ringing the bell outside, a young maid bobbing a curtsey and showing them in.

Somehow Loki had expected any vicar to be old and crusty, but instead he met a man barely older than himself. It was rather surprising, even as he realised that everyone had to be young once, even if it didn't seem that way.

A bookish type, though not in a good way, Loki struggled to focus on the conversation. His mother was being shown due deference. That was the main thing. He was full of respect.

Loki sipped his tea and considered where the world was moving. A new young vicar to whom he probably ought to become accustomed for the foreseeable future. The sons of the tenants he used to know beginning to take over the rents and keep their aged parents in comfort. Even himself; one day he'd replace his father here.

Not for a long time, with any luck. He couldn't stand the boredom.

"Wouldn't you agree, Mr Laufeyson?"

He blinked, trying to force himself back to the present.

"My apologies," he said. "I'm afraid my mind had wandered a little."

"I was just saying how I worry that the trappings of the season may distract from the message of Christ's birth. The tree, for instance. Ought we really draw children's eyes away from the word of God?"

Would people please leave the damn trees alone?!

"Well, I tend to find that having a focal point helps me concentrate better on listening. Somewhere to rest one's eyes. And it is symbolic, of course. The evergreen, the promise of eternal life through our Lord and so on..."

He didn't really know what he was talking about, but if he'd learned anything in Italy, it was how to make nonsense sound logical.

"Perhaps you're right. I know I certainly can't change it now, what with being so new. People dislike too much change all at once."

That was true. And maybe that was what troubled him about Thor's approach to passion. It wasn't bad or unsatisfying. It just wasn't what he was used to and so he felt rather... disconcerted by it.

It was nice to be cared about though, he supposed, even for a short time.

"I trust I will see yourselves and Sir Laufey later this evening?" the vicar asked.

"Oh, yes," Farbauti said. "We always come to the midnight service."

Loki made himself smile and agree, even though he could think of a few things he'd much rather be doing at midnight.


	18. Arrangements

Everything was prepared for the big day and Angerboda seemed surprised, like she couldn't convince herself that she hadn't forgotten something. She kept checking things, almost compulsively.

"Stop," Thor ended up saying. "Go and rest. Tomorrow will be a long, long day and we'll be at the church tonight. Have a nap."

That's what Loki was doing, apparently, back from visits with her ladyship. If he'd been angling for Thor to join him, he hadn't made too much of a fuss of it. Besides, there was too much to do. Checking all the finest china was suitably clean, even though there'd only be three plates used, decanting a little of the special whisky, cleaning and dusting and preparing for any unexpected visitors who might call with compliments of the season.

He found time for a little shut eye after dinner had been served and all the dishes washed. Loki had seemed rather distracted. Had been so all day.

Maybe he'd been thinking about what they'd discussed the previous night.

With the pony trap unusable, Thor suggested that Ymir ought to drive the carriage to the church with Mrs Jarnsaxa alongside him. He and Angerboda could walk. It wasn't too far.

He definitely was not suggesting that their relatively advanced age was a factor...

The night was clear, very cold, the stars like distant candles almost and every breath coming up in plumes of steam. Angerboda had wrapped a thick scarf in loops over her mouth in an effort to stay warm, her voice muffled by it.

"I hope it's warm in the church."

"I'm sure it will be," Thor said. "With that many people, it's sure to heat up."

"I'm spoiled. Always being near the oven, nice and cosy. I'll have to put the goose in before bed to cook it slowly..."

He promised to remind her. The smell in the morning would be wonderful.

They sat at the back of the church, as usual. Loki and his parents were on their particular pew, the other great and good of the parish behind them, and servants at the back.

As people filed in, various children were helping to decorate the tree with the new decorations Loki had brought, being lifted up to the higher branches. Despite himself, Thor felt a little jealous of them, having their hair ruffled by their fathers, their hands held by their mothers.

His upbringing had been better than some, but he longed for that kind of care and love.

Hymns came back to him from long-distant memories, not even having to read the words.

Curse him, his eyes kept drifting to Loki, imagining that he could hear his voice in amongst the crowd.

After the familiar sermon and Bible readings, midnight came, officially Christmas morning, shaking hands with everyone around him, that outpouring of goodwill and fellowship that happened before everyone braved the cold to go home.

"I think Angerboda ought to have my place in the carriage," he heard Loki saying. "It's freezing. Much too cold for a young woman to bear."

Somehow Thor managed not to roll his eyes at this sudden outbreak of gallantry. Still, no one could object except Farbauti urging him not to get too cold again.

They left with the horses kicking up a flurry of snowflakes, leaving them alone in the chill air, Loki sighing happily as they began making their way home.

"I've prepared something for you," he said.

Thor's concern rose immediately.

"What kind of thing?" he asked.

"Guess."

"No."

A huff, but almost like a laugh.

"Oh, you're no fun. It's myself."

"Yourself? In what way?"

"With oil. Use your imagination."

That was not what Thor was having trouble with. Indeed, it was trying not to imagine Loki readying himself, slippery fingers and parted legs, that had him struggling. But it gave him even more to worry about.

"That must have been hours ago," he said. "It won't be enough."

"It will. I can feel it. You'll be able to slide right in."

Thor hoped the darkness was hiding his blushes.

"No," he said firmly. "I'll decide what's enough, sir."

"But you will? Tonight?"

Part of Thor wanted to deny him, wanted to resist this, but his blood was warm for him now, imagining getting to show him a different way of finding pleasure together.

And, of course, at a very base level, he did want him. He couldn't deny it.

"Yes, sir. I'll be waiting."

They had to separate in the garden. No contact in case someone was watching. Loki to the front door and Thor to the kitchen.

The goose was already in the oven.


	19. Consummation

Loki could hardly bear the excitement rushing through his body. He'd been squirming ever since he'd spent a little time slicking himself up in the afternoon, ignoring the way his cock automatically rose in recognition of a pair of fingers inside him. He'd spread himself wide, enough for Thor's cock he thought, though he was not averse to a slight burn.

At least he was able to blame his distraction on tiredness after church, finishing his port and bidding his parents goodnight and a happy Christmas, making his way up the stairs with a pounding heart.

To his disappointment, Thor was still fully clothed. Waiting for him, hands neatly behind his back.

"I think you ought to lock the door, sir," he said softly, making him almost tremble.

At last! How he'd wanted this, his cock already bulging beneath his clothes.

"Where is your oil?" Thor asked.

"Nightstand. But I don't need any more. I'm ready."

Thor looked him up and down, his nostrils flared just slightly, clearly equally aroused but trying to hide it.

"Show me," he said.

Ah, well, this was something Loki knew well. He'd often stripped for Svaldifari's entertainment, peeling off his clothes and bending over, showing his body and waiting to be called over once he'd looked his fill.

He was out of his shirt and trousers in a blink, Thor carefully setting them aside as he leant against the desk and parted his cheeks, gratified to hear a genuine gasp behind him, even more so when he forced a finger in.

"You see?" he grunted. "All prepared."

He could hear Thor moving behind him, the rustle of clothes, a cupboard door opening, and then he was _there,_ his hands on him, warm and big, squeezing his flanks. Yes, yes...

"Is this what you imagined?" Thor murmured. "That I'd bend you over right here and pound you?"

"At first," Loki said. "And then maybe on the floor. Against the wall. In my bed..."

"Stay exactly where you are."

Pressing his lips together in excitement, Loki waited, expecting the familiar blunt press of a cock at his entrance, gasping in surprise when instead it was a slickened finger. So much oil, almost enough to make it drip from him.

"I knew it would have dried too much," Thor said. "I'll have you wet and truly ready first. Nice and open."

He added a second finger before too long, twisting his wrist and rubbing inside in a way that drove Loki mad, sending sparks of pleasure through him, but not enough, he needed more...

"Fuck me," he whispered. "I need it."

"Go to the bed. Let's be comfortable."

Ugh, fine. Loki crossed the room, kneeling so his arse was high in the air, his face on the pillow.

"No," Thor said, pulling him over. "I want you on your back. I want to see your face."

It was strangely disconcerting. Very intense. Which was bizarre because he was used to intensity, he was used to being looked at with hungry desire and yet this was different somehow. He felt... like he was being truly looked at, his soul almost rather than just his body.

And suddenly Thor was there between his legs, not trying to do anything except kiss him. Deeper than before, long and strong, enough to make him almost dizzy.

"Are you ready?" he murmured, his breath and beard tickling.

"I have been for hours..."

A chuckle, a hand down between them and then Loki was gasping, feeling the pressure and then the yielding of his flesh, a slow, gentle slide all the way until their hips were pressed together.

He felt like he was struggling to breathe and Thor waited patiently, not moving, caressing him even.

"Tell me when."

"Tell... What?"

"Tell me when to move. When you're ready."

He'd never had this before. He'd always just grit his teeth through any pain, forced his body to get used to it. But now he was relaxing a little, growing accustomed to the fullness, his breathing becoming steady until he could nod.

"Alright."

The first thrust was already enough to have him gripping Thor's arms, his nails digging in a little, a soft cry.

That was...

Ooh... Oh, yes. That was even better than he'd dreamed, already feeling his cock twitching with this gentle rhythm.

Had he really been so starved of sex that he'd come apart so fast?

Or was Thor just bigger? More what he wanted, what he needed? He certainly felt full in a wonderfully balanced way, not overwhelming but enough.

Maybe it wasn't that, maybe it was the technique that was more to his liking, though he needed a little more.

"Mmm... Mm, faster..."

"Yes?"

"Please. Oh..."

Thor grinned at him, leaning down to capture his lips, his thrusts speeding up just a little.

Loki wasn't used to being kissed during it. Not like this. Not with a certainty and a warmth that he felt all about him, muffling the moans that unexpectedly rose in his throat with every motion, a steady, rolling rhythm that seemed to keep him high on a wave of pleasure.

And maybe he sounded a little more like he was keening because Thor pulled back suddenly, frowning, worried.

"Are you alright?"

"Don't stop," Loki gasped. "God, don't, please, I'm so close..."

A smile, a hand on his cheek.

"You really are beautiful like this."

And then another thrust that had him almost crying out, desperately reaching for his cock at last, properly overwhelmed suddenly.

At least Thor was equally affected, his breath laced with the hints of moans, his quick rhythm stuttering but still strong enough to push Loki closer and closer to the edge, arching up and stroking his cock faster and faster until he finally spilled with a gasp, feeling as Thor joined him.

For a moment, he could do nothing but try to get his breath back, feeling Thor ease away, lying down beside him and pulling him into an embrace.

This was... different, but pleasant. Being held, safe and warm. Svaldifari usually went to sleep right away or headed off, he didn't...

"Was that alright?" Thor murmured.

"More than alright," Loki said, trying to disguise how shaken he was. "Mmm... Just what I wanted. And aren't you glad you stopped following your stupid rules? You could have missed out on this."

Thor chuckled, stroking his back.

"I suppose I am. But now I should be going to bed. My own bed."

How Loki wished he could stay. He understood, but watching Thor dress and tie back his hair... He wanted him to stay.

"Thor?"

"Yes?"

But he couldn't stay. He knew that.

"Merry Christmas."

A smile, one that he couldn't read.

"Merry Christmas, sir."


	20. Questions

Thor was off-balance somehow. That had certainly been unexpectedly passionate. He'd wanted to show Loki a different experience to what he knew perhaps, but he hadn't anticipated the feeling of protectiveness that had come over him. That drive to defend him.

The man in Italy clearly didn't appreciate him properly. Thor knew the type, only interested in his own physical wants and not the emotional needs of their partner. And Loki was so sharp, so intelligent. He deserved to be treated as more than just his body.

But that was none of his business, of course. Loki would make his own decisions. And maybe he didn't like being taken care of. Maybe he preferred emotionless roughness.

He tried to think of it pragmatically. This was just for fun. Loki would leave him with happy memories and nothing more.

The night didn't seem to last long enough, waking from habit in the chill air and getting dressed to start his duties.

Christmas... It felt very strange. He'd never been the most festive of people and now that he was working, it all rather exhausting. He knew the spirit of the season in theory, and he certainly felt goodwill to all men - well, most men - and he enjoyed the general ambience and smells, but he never really felt family and fellowship as such.

Still, it was his role to be the cheerful one in the kitchen, trying to balance out Angerboda's stress. Reminding her that all would be well. That she was an excellent cook.

"I've never done anything so big before," she kept saying.

"There's only three of them," Thor said. "And her ladyship won't eat that much. And then we'll enjoy the leftovers once they've gone to bed. And tomorrow for breakfast. And all week, probably..."

Laufey's arrival in the kitchen looked fit to send her into a faint, boisterous and enthusiastic though he was.

"Merry Christmas, one and all! Odinson, would you ready the dogs?"

"Right away, sir."

"I fear they may be a little unruly today what with all the excitement and delicious smells. Would you mind giving me a hand with them?"

This was unusual, but Thor fetched his coat and hat anyway, stepping out holding one of the leashes while Laufey kept the other two. They were not any more rambunctious than usual as far as he could tell.

And maybe he was right to be suspicious.

"You've done very well adapting to Loki being in the house."

"Thank you, sir."

"He can be demanding, that boy. I hope you don't find him too strange."

And suddenly the fear was on him again. What was he really being asked here? Had they been heard? Did Laufey know somehow?

"I couldn't possibly say, sir."

A chuckle.

"Ah, you're a very loyal man. I like that. Bodes well."

"Well for what, sir?"

A few more trudged steps through the snow giving Thor the distinct impression that he wasn't going to get an answer to that question.

"I like to trust the people in my home, Odinson," Laufey said after a while. "Some people think they can treat the servants like dirt and it will never hurt them and they're fools. You get the employees you deserve, I think. And I like to think I'm fair and reasonable enough to have fine, honest people working for me."

Honesty... Yes, not something Thor had in huge amounts at present, given just what he was hiding.

"Sir," he said. Nice and neutral.

"Of course, sometimes discretion is even better than honesty. You're an intelligent man. I'm sure you catch my drift."

Thor was almost certain now. Laufey knew, or at least suspected. Maybe he'd seen Loki watching him. Maybe he'd seen all manner of little exchanges between them.

And yet Thor had not found himself removed and out on the street without references as he expected, so many he didn't know at all. Maybe this was just general observation.

"You've been very kind to me, sir," he said carefully. "And I hope I can prove to be trustworthy."

Laufey sighed.

"I do so hate having to talk around one another like this," Laufey said. "But I hope we have reached an understanding."

Thor wasn't entirely convinced that they had. Was he being warned off or was Laufey unaware or...?

"You never knew your father, did you, Odinson?"

That wasn't what he'd expected to be asked.

"No, sir. I believe he died before I was born, or not soon afterwards."

"If you could meet him, what would you want him to think of you?"

"I... I don't know, sir. I'd want to ask him about himself, about my mother, what kind of people they were. I suppose I'd like him to be proud of me. I'd want to know that he would want me to be his son, just as I am."

Laufey seemed very pensive, considering.

"I'm sure he would have done. We should start to head back or I fear I'll be late for Christmas lunch. Couldn't have that."

"No, indeed, sir."

It had been a strange little walk.

Thor hoped he hadn't caused any trouble by mistake.


	21. Introspection

Christmas morning and Loki was waking without any of the bruises he'd been dreaming of only a few days ago, but with a great deal in his heart. He had no idea what it was, but he was very aware of it. Like he was carrying around something heavy in his chest.

The house seemed very busy, breakfast already waiting for him in the dining room but no sign of Thor. He tried not to show his disappointment as he poured tea for his parents. He just wanted something. A glance, a brush of fingers, something to show that they were not merely servant and master anymore.

Not that he knew what they were. Lovers? Perhaps. He was certainly hoping to have the opportunity for a second time, maybe one where he could be on top. He'd like that very much.

All the same, something was bothering him. An uncertainty, an inkling that this was different.

He tried to interrogate that. Was it that he felt he was betraying Svaldifari in some way? They had never made any promises to one another. And more than once, he had caught hints of other people in his rooms, traces of women's perfume, other hairs among the sheets. He didn't think it was guilt as such.

And it certainly wasn't regret. If he could have, he'd have let Thor sleep in his bed, easily accessible come the morning.

But that couldn't be. Thor would not allow it. He was too mindful of being caught.

"You seem pensive, Loki," his father said mildly.

"Hmm? Oh. No, it's nothing. Just a late night having its effect."

"On one so young and carefree? Goodness me."

He was teasing, but there was no malice in it. Loki made himself smile, sipping his tea.

"Just goes to show how studious I am normally," he said.

"How quickly must you go back?" Farbauti asked. "Surely not before the new year? It's been so lovely having you here."

Only a few days ago, Loki would have been desperate for escape, to run away into the arms of a thoroughly unsuitable man. But now...

Well, now...

"I'll certainly stay into the first week of January," he said. "I will have to attend lectures at some point though, much as I'd like to stay longer."

Laufey smiled at him, beaming to have him being so reassuring for his mother. And to Loki's surprise, he meant it.

Of course, there were things he was already missing about Italy. The easy access to arts and culture, science and books. They had the house library, but in truth it was mostly accounts and almanacs rather than reading material. He'd miss the interesting company.

But the biggest draw, the strongest pull was suddenly worth very little to him. His lover was suddenly almost an acquaintance.

Was he really so fickle as that? So faithless?

Or was it that perhaps for the first time, he was realising that he wanted something different to what Svaldifari offered him?

Maybe he wanted to be treated as more than just what pleasure he could give, regardless of how much he might enjoy it. Maybe he wanted to be listened to more. Maybe he wanted to be held sometimes and... Well, appreciated differently.

Maybe he didn't want to go back to him at all.

"Christmas cards, my lady," Mrs Jarnsaxa said, sweeping into the room with an uncharacteristic amount of cheer. She was normally rather reserved.

Loki sat pondering through letters from various cousins he didn't remember - his mother had a fairly extensive distant family, most of whom they had never met.

"Oh, Loki, this one's for you," Farbauti said. "No address, but the post office must have worked it out from the nearest town."

A horrible fear hit Loki's stomach as he took it from her. Who would be writing to him here?

Every slip of the letter opener was like a punch to his gut, trying to clear his throat and sound normal.

"It's from one of the other students," he said.

"A friend?" Laufey asked. There was something in his voice, some hint of suspicion almost.

"Not really. Must have just written to everyone they'd met."

"That's very kind of them."

"Mm."

He waited until neither of them were looking to slip the enclosed letter into his pocket.

"I really am rather exhausted from last night," he said. "I think I'll take a short nap before lunch."

Laufey watched him get up, almost like he was concerned.

"Alright," he said. "You do that, if that's what you need. I'm going to take the dogs out. Farbauti, what are your plans this fine Christmas day?"

"I think our son has the right idea. Everything is so out of kilter at this time of year. Perhaps it would do me good to rest."

Loki leant down to kiss her on the cheek, his father still watching him with undisguised worry. Almost like he knew...

No. No, he couldn't possibly.

Almost running up the stairs, Loki took refuge in his room, hands shaking as he unfolded the paper.

_Merry Christmas, lamb. I hope you haven't forgotten me._

_I certainly haven't forgotten you._


	22. A Turn

Angerboda had truly surpassed herself. The goose was beautiful, golden and resting on a bed of roast vegetables, a centerpiece that any table would be justly proud to bear. And add into that the little savoury pastries and the sausages and the potatoes... Thor was amazed there had been space in the oven, let alone time to make it all.

He ferried things up to the dining room, ready under cloches, but they'd wait for the family to be present before unveiling the bird.

Only as he came through the door carrying it did Thor catch a glance at Loki, looking paler than normal, his eyes shifting and worried. What was wrong with him?

Thor hoped is wasn't his fault. Something he'd done or said, something Laufey had said to him...

All the same, trying not to worry, he took his space in the line of servants, a small glass of sparkling wine in his hand from Ymir's tray, a little Christmas treat for them all as Laufey stood up.

"Well," he said. "Here we all are together at this most festive of times. Our loyal staff, producing an incredible feast once again and who deserve our gratitude for running the house so expertly. My beloved wife, putting up with me for yet another year somehow, with many to come, God willing. And, of course, our son, Loki, of whom I'm of course very proud with his learning and cleverness..."

There was a loud scraping as Loki leapt to his feet, already hurrying towards the door.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammered. "It's so warm in here, I need a little air. I'll just be a moment."

Running footsteps in the hall, a horrible silence in his wake before Laufey cleared his throat.

"Odinson, would you go and assist him, please?"

What with, Thor had absolutely no idea, but he nodded anyway, putting down his glass and following at a calm distance. Something was clearly wrong.

He found Loki on the landing near his bedroom, gasping for breath from running up the stairs, bent like his heart was bursting.

"What is it?" Thor asked. "What's wrong?"

A sob that made something ache within him.

"Oh, Thor, I've been so stupid..."

"Hey, hey, no..."

He put a hand on Loki's shoulder and then found himself with Loki's arms thrown around him, being thoroughly wept upon, trying his best to make soothing noises.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can't be that bad..."

"It is! He's going to ruin me."

"Who?"

As if he couldn't guess. The man in Italy, of course. Who else would it be? His blood boiled at just to think of him daring to even think of Loki.

"You're being blackmailed?" Thor asked.

"As close as makes no difference. Look."

He fished a folded scrap of paper from his pocket, pushing it into Thor's hand to read.

It was clear what had rattled him. This was a veiled threat. An effort to exert control, an attempt to extort and scare. This was not a love letter or even a note of base passion but purely of exploitation. _Remember that I know your secret._

How soon before the demands for money came?

"He has your address?" Thor asked.

"No... No, just the name of the village."

"Well, that makes it less dangerous. Does he have any proof? Anything that would implicate you? Letters or anything of that nature?"

"Er... I don't think so. But there are witnesses. We've been seen together."

"In an... improper manner?"

"What?"

Thor tried to voice things delicately.

"Has anyone seen you and him in an intimate situation?"

"What? No! Why would...? No! Just walking and in the coffee salon."

"Like friends?"

A worried little nod.

"Well, then, he has nothing but his word against yours. He has no actual evidence. And you are the son of a powerful man, the kind who can shrug off an accusation as lies."

Loki took a deep breath, wiping his eyes.

"So what should I do?"

"Do you love him?"

It might seem a strange question, but stranger things happened. People fell in love with the wrong people all the time. It was the only reason Thor hadn't said exactly what he thought of this parasite out loud.

"Of course not," Loki said. "I don't think I'd even go back if I didn't have to. I need to if I want to finish my studies. But he means nothing to me."

"Then I suggest you simply pretend this letter didn't arrive and break off your affair. If he thinks he has no means of reaching you, hopefully he'll leave you be. Find someone who will treat you better. And I... I think maybe you should tell your father. Get his support early, just in case."

Loki had been almost leaning on him, letting him take his weight, but now he pulled away.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" he hissed. "My father can never know! He'd disinherit me."

Thor wasn't so sure about that. He felt perhaps he understood now what Laufey had been trying to do by talking to him. He must have suspected that Loki was in some kind of trouble, that he would need friends. Someone loyal. And he was asking him to be that loyal friend.

"He doesn't need to know that it's true," he said. "But I truly think he would understand."

Loki sniffed and pressed his hands against his heated cheeks, trying to get hold of himself.

"I wish I could just hide up here with you," he said.

That did sound nice.

"Come on," Thor said. "It's Christmas. Angerboda has made a feast and your parents will be waiting for you."

A few more deep breaths and a quick kiss. A little courage to help him go back to the dining room.

"I'm still not telling him."

"That's up to you."

Thor was still sure it was the right thing to do, but it wasn't his place to interfere.

Not in something so important.


	23. Revelations

"I'm so sorry," Loki said, trying to sweep his way back to his seat with some degree of dignity. "Don't know what came over me. Just felt a little faint. Quite alright now."

Thor poured him some water, stepping back to the side of the room, the other servants gone back downstairs. He felt a little bit better to be relatively alone.

"We were worried that perhaps you'd got bad news earlier," his mother said. "You did seem a little upset."

"No," Loki said, maybe a little too quickly. "No, it was nothing."

"Trouble with a young woman, is it?" Laufey asked.

"No, no. No, nothing like that."

"Mm. I thought not. This goose really is extraordinary, don't you think?"

Loki wasn't sure about his tone. What did he mean? What did he suspect? What, exactly, was he implying?

"Why wouldn't I be having trouble with a young woman?" he asked.

"You're not the sort."

Hmm.

And something reckless rose in Loki, the part of him that wanted to scream and yell, to rage at how he had to hide, sick of these hints and euphemisms. He wanted it out in the open, he wanted to have the fight if it was coming and get it over with.

"What sort am I, then?" he asked coldly, daring his father to say it out loud.

Laufey chewed and swallowed, very calm, slicing another fluffy roast potato, using it to soak up some gravy.

"You know, Loki, I had a friend once. Before I met your mother, years and years ago. And my father disliked him intensely and I was never sure why."

Loki couldn't see the relevance of this, stabbing a Brussels sprout onto his fork.

"I asked myself what it could possibly be, what offence he might have committed. And eventually, many years later, I realised that I held some... feelings towards him, different to my other friendships. My father must have realised it. They were feelings I did not know again until I met your mother and only then did I recognise them. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Loki knew he was staring suddenly, not convinced that he was hearing this. Was he trying to say what he thought he was saying?

"You... You mean you loved him?" he managed.

"I think so, yes, though I didn't know it at the time. Over some time, while courting your mother, I came to terms with it - that I desire both men and women."

Was he dreaming? Had he hit his head? His mother was sitting right there, apparently unperturbed, simply carrying on with her meal. Like she wasn't hearing this. Or like she knew, but surely she couldn't know...

"Of course, I never acted upon it," Laufey said mildly. "Not for years. I had met your mother, loved her, proposed and though we were very happy, I felt so guilty to keep this secret from her. I found my courage on the day before the marriage to tell her the truth, to give her a chance to call it off."

"It was funny, really," Farbauti said. "All that time and I thought I was the only one who felt that way. And here was the man I loved telling me that we were the same. It felt like a blessing, it really did. I had been sure he was the right husband for me, but then I was certain."

This was too much to take in. The world was backwards, bizarre, upside down. Loki felt like he'd stepped through a mirror into a world that looked the same but was anything but.

"What are you trying to say?" he asked.

"That if you are having trouble with a young man rather than a young woman, we understand," Farbauti said.

A moment of silence, a hasty gulp of wine. Was this a trick? It would be a very strange one. And why would they? To what end?

But that meant it had to be true...

"I'm not... I'm not like that," Loki said. "I only like men. I understand when a woman is beautiful, but I don't... I don't feel any desire."

"That's alright," Laufey said. "Ymir doesn't either."

What did...? What? What?!

"You're not saying you and he...? But Mother..."

"It's not what you think, Loki," she said. "We're happily married, your father and I. Devoted. But we agreed that since we each felt these things, we would give each other permission to act on them."

"No, Mother, you shouldn't let him treat you that way. It's not fair."

"You think it's just him? Do you really think Mrs Jarnsaxa spends all that time in my room helping me with buttons? How many buttons do you think I have?"

Everything he'd ever known seemed to be falling down and yet...

And yet maybe it was revealing something better.

"Odinson," Laufey said, reminding Loki that Thor was still in the room and looking just as shocked and confused as he felt. "Why don't you sit down? It seems we have a lot to discuss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you can't write supportive bisexual polyamorous Victorian parents at this time of year, when can you?


	24. Merriment

Sitting at the family table. Encouraged to finish his abandoned glass of wine. Welcomed.

Thor was not entirely convinced that he hadn't somehow begun imagining things.

A lot of oddities suddenly made sense, though. Why Laufey and Farbauti had so few servants despite the size of their house - fewer people meant less risk. The way he'd felt watched during his first months here - they needed to know he was trustworthy. They had to confirm he could be allowed to know the secret.

"Does Angerboda know?" he found himself asking.

"Of course," Laufey said. "Lovely girl and a fine cook. And she has her own secrets too, which I will allow her to tell you if she chooses."

Thor was still baffled about one thing though.

"How did you know?" he asked helplessly. "When you took me on, how did you know that I was like this? I'm so careful."

"We didn't," Farbauti said. "We employed you because we believed you would be a good addition to the household. And we were prepared to hide the truth from the two of you forever, never to know. But then Loki came home for Christmas and began conveniently finding time to be alone with the new footman and Ymir and Mrs Jarnsaxa noted a few... late evenings, a few distracted moments. It was a risk, but we were quietly confident."

This was such a different side to her. Thor was used to her being unfailingly polite, perhaps a little too soft on her son, but gentle and without a conniving bone in her body. Now he was starting to realise where Loki got his sneakiness.

"So what now?" Loki asked.

She took his hand across the table.

"Now I hope you'll forgive us for all our secrets. We didn't know how you were going to turn out, you see."

And Loki laughed and laughed.

"All this time, I thought I'd turned out the opposite of how you wanted."

"You're our son," Laufey said very seriously. "It doesn't matter how you turned out. We love you. And we can help you, if you let us."

To Thor's surprise, Loki looked to him, looking for reassurance and support. Something he was only too willing to give, an encouraging smile. It was going to be alright. He could feel it.

"Maybe I could explain for you?" he said, wondering if that would spare him a little.

Loki nodded, looking down. It would be embarrassing to say this kind of thing to his parents, however shockingly open they were turning out to be.

"Alright. Well... There is a man in Italy. Highly unscrupulous, from what I've learned. He's sent a vague threat, but I doubt there is much to it. More likely just an opportunist, looking to see who he can take money from. He has no evidence that we can think of and not so much as an address, but... Well..."

"But it's still a concern," Laufey said.

"Indeed, sir. I suggest pretending the letter did not arrive and ending the affair amicably, as if Loki had no knowledge of any attempt to communicate. Er... That is to say, as if Mr Laufeyson had no knowledge..."

"Yes, yes, I believe we have established you're on first-name terms, my boy."

Lord above, that was mortifying, sitting with his lover's parents, all of them aware of what they were to one another. And yet it was also, somehow, a relief. He could be himself here. Maybe not loudly, but openly. Quietly free in a way he never had been before.

"I think it a fairly good plan," Farbauti said. "Loki, what do you think? You'd have to go through with it. Would it be painful? You don't love him, I trust?"

"No," Loki said very quickly, with a vehemence that made Thor's heart swell. "No, I never want to see him again."

"And you and Odinson, do you...?"

"Do we what?"

A smile, all soft and caring.

"Do you love each other?"

Thor didn't want to speak first, looking to Loki for a decision.

"We barely know each other," he said, very reasonably.

"Yes," Thor said. "It's not been long enough for that kind of thing to develop. Though I would say that I feel you are the kind of man that I could love. Clever and witty, curious."

"Curious?" Loki said, resting his hand in his chin. "You mean strange."

"No. I mean curious about the world. Keen on knowledge. Interesting."

And maybe he felt protective towards him too, not that he was saying that. It might be offensive. But he did feel that drive, that draw to shield him from cruel men and a harsh world.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to make a decision on what to do about the letter tonight," Loki said, blushing slightly, a distinct air of changing the subject. "I think I'd like to have Christmas and forget about it all."

"Good idea," Laufey said. "Odinson, I believe the others will be waiting downstairs. Tell them they can come up now."

Come up? This was very strange, especially to find the three of them sitting anxiously around the kitchen table, clutching plates.

"Have they told you?" Mrs Jarnsaxa asked before covering her mouth like she hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Yes," Thor said. "Yes, they have. And they say we can all go up now."

She beamed at him, a degree of tension leaving her shoulders.

"Then you need some crockery, young man."

Ah. And suddenly all the food made sense as Angerboda, Ymir and Mrs Jarnsaxa led him back to the dining room and took the empty seats around the table, laying out their own cutlery. Not for leftovers, but to share.

"Right," Laufey said, standing up. "Now we're all here, I shall finish my toast. To family. That's all I really wanted to say."

Lifting his glass, Thor looked around the room in wonder. Farbauti and Mrs Jarnsaxa taking each other's hands, Angerboda sitting at the feast she had prepared, Ymir actually smiling, which seemed a miracle in itself.

"I think I might be dreaming," he said.

"You and I both," Loki said. "And I don't think I want to wake up."


	25. Ideas and Impossibilities

Loki did wake up eventually.

And Thor was sprawled out next to him, still mostly clothed.

The previous night came swimming back to him. A dinner that had gone on for hours. Jokes and songs and games. The kind of Christmas he remembered from his childhood, just bigger. And with wine.

He remembered Thor helping him up the stairs even though his feet were just as stumbling, struggling with his cufflinks and buttons.

"Hey," Loki had said. "Hey, Thor, you can... You can stay here. Overnight. It's allowed."

And Thor had smiled the biggest smile, slow but so joyful and they'd fallen into bed together and...

Well, been too tired and tipsy for anything else really.

But now he was awake and alert and Thor was lying next to him and looking so beautiful and peaceful. And it wasn't like anyone else would be rushing to begin the day, surely...

And his bottle of oil was still out on his nightstand...

Moving very slowly and carefully, trying not to wake him, Loki reached for it, squirming out of the trousers that he was still wearing, reaching down between his legs.

He was up to three fingers when Thor breathed differently, his eyes flickering open.

"Mmph," he said, stretching. "Good morning."

"Hello."

"Did last night really happen?"

"It seems so. And just in case we're both still dreaming, I think we should make the most of it."

He took Thor's wrist and guided it down, gasping as he explored gently and then pushed inside.

"You're insatiable," Thor murmured.

"Not quite. Just aware that time is short."

He sat up, the blankets falling from his shoulders, nipples going tight in the cold air and Thor's eyes rushing to them, gently rubbing one with his thumb and sending goosebumps across Loki's chest.

"Take these off," he said, tugging at Thor's belt. "But don't move. I want it just like this."

He liked the way Thor was looking at him as he shucked his trousers, like he really wasn't sure this was real, and then smiling as Loki straddled him and began unbuttoning his shirt. Just to have it open and gain easy access to his bare skin.

For a few moments, he took the time simply to touch and explore, running his fingers up Thor's sternum, the valley between his muscles, the swell of them.

The perfect leverage for him to gently lift himself forward, Thor following his thoughts instantly and helping him line up so he could sink down, down, down...

This felt very luxuriant and decadent, taking his time before swivelling his hips, watching as Thor let out a sigh of pleasure. Holding back still.

And, yes, fair enough, he didn't want the whole house to know what they were up to, but he still longed to hear Thor being a bit more vocal.

He experimented a little, clenching his muscles, smirking down at Thor's obvious frustration, the two of them playing a game of patience.

It was therefore very unfair for Thor to wrap a hand around his cock and give a firm stroke, enough to have him jerking forward, gasping.

"I'd love to stay here with you all day," he murmured. "But I really should get up."

"I suppose you're right," Loki said, starting to roll his hips properly. "I have a few questions for... Well, everyone, I think."

"Me too. Mmm..."

A warm sigh as Loki set himself a gentle pace, rocking forward, really taking the time to enjoy being full.

He let out a little squeak as Thor sat up, pulling him into his arms, making everything just a little deeper, kissing his neck.

Oh, he could get used to this... And that was a dangerous thought because he was going to have to leave this.

Or was he?

"Come with me," he said, taking Thor's face in his hands. "Come to Italy with me."

Thor smiled at him, turning his head to the side to kiss his wrist.

"I can't. I'm needed here. Your parents turned their lives upside down to employ me to help run the house. I can't let them down. But I'll be waiting for you."

That was... Well, it wasn't what he wanted, but it was sweet. And Loki knew he ought to reciprocate, he ought to say that he would wait too, but...

"A whole year?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

Thor chuckled.

"I've been celibate since I moved here," he said. "No opportunities. It's not so very difficult. But don't worry. I won't be angry if you find pleasure with someone else."

Loki bucked against him as best he could with such limited leverage, his cock rubbing against Thor's stomach.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Of course. After all, I know it'll be me you're thinking of."

"Oh, is that so?"

"I intend to make it that way, certainly."

With that, Loki found himself pitched backwards, the sheets tangled all around him and Thor's cock never slipping out, one leg propped over Thor's shoulder as he began to drive into him with abandon.

Never mind moaning or crying out, Loki was struggling to manage to get enough air in his lungs. Everything was intense pleasure, every thrust hitting the perfect place within him to make even his toes curl, fumbling to reach for his cock only for Thor to beat him there, stroking so hard and firm, yes, yes...

"Fuck," Thor breathed, wild above him. "Oh, fuck, Loki..."

He liked that, liked hearing the way his voice faltered, his breathing going ragged until Loki felt him spill, overwhelmed by his body but without quite satisfying him.

But no sooner had that thought entered Loki's head then Thor had slipped down his body, taking his cock into his mouth and using two fingers inside to rub in just the right way...

Loki lay in a blissful heap afterwards, absentmindedly pulling a blanket over his cooling skin.

"So what do you think?" Thor asked. "Think it'll be me you're dreaming of?"

As if he had to ask...


	26. Truths

Pulling on the rest of his clothes and giving Loki another kiss, Thor felt a wash might be in order for both of them, making his way downstairs to start heating water.

And then there'd be the fires to attend to and the dishes from yesterday and the sweeping and, and, and...

Ymir was in the kitchen, porridge on the stove by the smell of it.

"Where's Angerboda?" Thor asked. "Still asleep?"

"On the contrary, she was off to the station first thing this morning."

"Oh, I see. To visit her family?"

"In a way. She has a child, you see. Being looked after a few towns away."

Thor had felt his eyebrows shoot upwards. A child? But...

"She's not married."

"No, she's not."

"And she's very young."

"Indeed."

Oh. Oh, dear.

"She's never mentioned that," Thor said. "Does she mind if I know?"

A smile, and though Thor had seldom seen such a thing, it really did suit Ymir's face, revealing a kindness and warmth that he hadn't appreciated properly before.

"She asked me to tell you," he said. "And I'm sorry for all the secrecy, but we needed to know you could be trusted first."

"Like with the silverware."

"An early test. I never really expected you to steal anything, but, well, assumptions have got me into trouble before."

Thor was very curious. He'd never met anyone like him of Ymir's age before. Or rather he probably had but was unaware of it, just as he had been here.

"Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

"Not at all."

How to even begin?

"How did you come to be here? How did you and Sir Laufey find each other?"

He chuckled. How strange! He was so relaxed now, so different. Maybe he had always been like this when they were in different rooms.

"I wish I could tell you of a great romance," he said. "I wish I could say he rescued me from the streets or from being evicted from a previous job. But it's much more prosaic than that. It was much like you and the young master. I was employed here and we... exchanged glances. I never thought anything would come of it, what with him being devoted to her ladyship, but I treasured every conversation we had, every moment together, never dreaming that my admiration could ever possibly be returned in the way I wished."

"And he just... told you?"

"No. Her ladyship dropped some hints that she'd noticed certain looks between us. I was deeply embarrassed and scared, tried to beg her not to dismiss me. I just wanted to stay. But she was kind. She explained everything. She told me how he felt the same but was much too shy to express himself."

The fond smile, the soft tone. This was love he was speaking of.

"And you don't mind that he and her ladyship are...?"

A slight sigh, a shrug.

"I have been a little jealous in the past that she is the one with him always, but I grew used to it. His love is not a cup that must be divided but a deep, deep well which never runs dry. And their bond is that of souls, I feel. I couldn't come between them even if I wanted to."

That made sense. In many ways, wasn't that similar to his promise to Loki? Go out and have fun, but come home to me?

"And Mrs Jarnsaxa, do you know her story?"

"Not at all. She pre-dates me and she's very private. But she's happy. And gradually, as various servants left, we simply didn't replace them and we were able to be more open with our strange little arrangement. And now you are here, needed to help run the house, and not only are you sympathetic but you're actually like us yourself. I call that fate."

Fate? Thor wasn't totally sure he believed in that.

But if anything was going to convince him...

"Your water will be close to boiling now, lad."

Yes. Yes, it would be.

He took it upstairs, finding Loki in his dressing gown, looking a little thoughtful. Serene, but thoughtful.

"I think I have an idea," he said.

Thor poured the steaming water into the smaller basin.

"Now, why does that worry me?"

Loki grinned.

"I couldn't possibly say."


	27. Motherly Advice

Mmm, having his hair washed really was delightful, feeling how easy Thor was with touching him now. No more careful, perfunctory contact but gentle rubbing that sent warmth rushing through his body.

"I know that you can't leave my parents," Loki said, luxuriating just a little. "But you could come with me to Italy briefly. To help me pack up my things."

Thor's fingers stopped in their soft massaging.

"Pack up?"

"I think I should move out of my current home and closer to the university."

A little sigh, a bit of relief that had Loki opening his eyes curiously.

"I thought for a moment that you intended to give up your studies," Thor said. "And you mustn't. You have to be recognised for how intelligent you are."

Loki frowned vaguely at the ceiling.

"I don't actually have to finish, you know," he said. "A degree won't do me much good here."

"But it will bring you prestige. That means a lot in your social circle, I gather."

"I suppose so. And I do like living there, even... with the risks."

Was Thor trying to be extra soothing now? It was certainly working.

"But you plan to take me with you to... scare off your former lover?" he asked.

Ah. He was much too perceptive.

"I thought having someone big and strong and brave with me might help, yes. Might make it clear that I'm not someone he can try to exploit. Not anymore."

He really was openly appealing to Thor's protective nature, but there was more to it as well. Thor would never have had the chance to travel. He'd lived in the city and then a series of grand houses. The idea of taking him on a trip across the water, out to Europe; it appealed to him. He thought Thor would like it.

"If they think they can cope without me for a week or two, then yes. I'd love to."

Getting his own way, Loki didn't even try to prevent Thor leaving him to perform the rest of his duties for the day.

For one thing, he wanted to talk to his parents about the secrets that had been kept under their very roof.

He found his mother in the parlour, sitting in the window seat, embroidering by the bright winter sunshine.

"I think there's still tea in the pot, darling," she said, the needle glinting in her hand.

Loki filled himself a cup, the gentle ring of liquid against china, coming to sit with her.

He didn't know where to begin. He didn't need to know the details of his mother's romantic life, but on the other hand, this felt like an opportunity to get to know her to an extent he never had before.

Maybe everyone realised one day that their parents were strangers in many ways. Maybe not quite so spectacularly, but all the same. Who knew what secretly went on in the brains of others, even ones so close to you?

"Oh, say something, please," she said. "I can tell you want to."

"It's just... a surprise, I suppose. I would never have guessed."

"No, I imagine you wouldn't. We're very careful. You must be curious though."

"When did you... know? That you felt that way, I mean."

She stitched in silence for a moment.

"I'm not really sure. In many ways, I didn't. I admired people, felt drawn to them, and their sex didn't really matter. And I would speak to my friends about it, thinking that when they expressed great admiration and affection for other women that they meant it the same way I did. It was only when they began to meet their husbands and they way they spoke changed that I realised I was a little different."

Loki pondered that with his own experiences. He wasn't sure if he'd always known or if it had just been in retrospect.

"And you and Mrs Jarnsaxa?"

"What about us?"

"How long?"

She hummed lightly, trying to remember.

"It was a slow love. We didn't speak it out loud for a long time. Didn't touch, didn't kiss. But we knew, I think. And one day, when you were about five or so, she wrote me a note, a love letter I suppose, expressing her feelings, apologising for them, saying she would leave."

"And what did you do?"

"Well, I consulted with your father first. I knew how I felt, but to be honest, she's very shy. I never expected anything to come of it even with everything out in the open. But to see her smile when I told her... It was magical."

"And she didn't mind sharing you with Father?"

"I think she was surprised enough that I felt the same way to worry too much about the exact arrangement. Sometimes unexpected things turn out to be what you wanted all along. Or close enough."

That was very reassuring.

"But let's discuss you and Odinson," she said. "I like him. He's a fine man."

Loki knew he was blushing, looking away.

"He is. He's very kind. I was thinking he could come to Italy for a little while. He's concerned about inconveniencing you, but I'm sure a little trip would be fine."

"Oh, quite right. We'd cope. And it's important for the two of you to spend time together. Get to know one another properly, away from all the trappings of the estate."

Just as he'd thought. He finished his tea, the cup warm in his hand.

"Mother," he said. "How do you know you're in love? I know when I am attracted to someone, but love... I'm not sure."

"Oh, very few people are, darling. Sometimes it's very sudden, sometimes it sneaks up on you. Try not to worry about it too much, that's my advice."

Probably wise, Loki felt.

She usually was.


	28. Away

Thor walked into Loki's rooms and gasped.

He'd been doing that a lot recently, it seemed. Their journey to Italy had been one long gasp at times. Seeing the Channel and looking back to the white cliffs, France suddenly on the horizon, the journey south on the train.

And, of course, getting to know Loki better, outside of his ancestral home. Not that it hadn't been a wonderful beginning to the new year; eating all together in the dining room had become the norm, complete with Angerboda and her son, a bright young boy of seven. They were to move into the old gatehouse soon, nearby but private.

They'd be settled by the time he got back.

And now Loki had led him into a small but beautiful set of chambers, all damask curtains and carved mantelpieces, stunning carpets and a glorious four-poster bed.

"I know," Loki said. "It is rather nice. I just wish I owned any of it. I'm always on the lookout for a similar rug to remind me of it."

"Are you sure you want to move?" Thor asked. "If you like it so much?"

"I feel I have to. Svaldifari knows how to find me here. I don't want that risk."

A little jealousy rose in Thor's chest. He would help Loki find somewhere equally beautiful, but different, so different, somewhere that he would keep in his mind and know when Loki brought home his souvenirs that he had helped to choose them.

They went out to eat, an astonishing luxury it seemed to Thor, being waited on himself. It was a nice enough treat, but he didn't think he'd like it all the time.

And the museums and galleries, the streets even, were so different to what he knew. No wonder Loki was enchanted with it.

But it wasn't home. Loki spoke a little Italian, enough to get by, but Thor felt constrained by his lack of words, able to read things but gain no sense from them. It was frustrating to let Loki be the one looking after him, stuck just smiling.

But he was smiling. All the time. From the moment he woke in the morning to falling asleep with Loki in his arms.

And that made the morning he was woken by a knock at the door all the more troublesome.

Loki groaned, rubbing his face into the pillow, leaving Thor to get up and pull on the robe. It didn't fit, but at least it preserved his modesty for the concierge, no doubt here with a delivery of some kind.

It was not the concierge at all. Thor opened the door to a tall, broad man, thick dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard, a strange kind of handsomeness. In the eyes, mostly. They smouldered to the point of being a fire hazard.

He looked Thor up and down with a degree of detachment, as though he was not a man but an interesting item of furniture.

This was Svaldifari, he knew it instantly, calmly pulling the door mostly closed to conceal any evidence of Loki.

"Can I help you?" he asked, forcing his voice to be steady and even.

"I don't know," came the reply. "I'm looking for someone."

"Someone in particular or just generically?"

Narrowed eyes, but a smile. He liked a challenge, moving into Thor's space.

"Depends who I find first."

Oh, and the worst thing was that Thor could see the appeal. The charm, the rakish promise of a bad man who'd do wicked things with anyone willing and how that might be fun...

But he knew what kind of man he really was. Far from a harmless hedonist, but a liar and a cad. A would-be blackmailer.

And suddenly Loki was alongside him, dressed and dignified, aloof. Thor watched Svaldifari take him in, a steeliness coming over his eyes.

"Please leave," Loki said. "I think our dalliance ran its course. Especially since I heard nothing from you over Christmas."

Thor admired how boldly he could say these things, pretending so flawlessly.

A glance from him to Thor and back again.

"Oh, I see," Svaldifari murmured. "You think you can just replace me? You think he can give you what I can?"

"I don't want what you give me," Loki said. "I want something different."

Svaldifari turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You posh boys are all the same. A little romance and you melt for anyone who'll have you."

"I want someone who cares about me!" Loki said, more sharply than Thor had expected. "Someone who sees me as more than just a convenient warm body who'll put up and shut up."

A look of pure venom.

"You'll come crawling back. They always do."

"I think he asked you to leave," Thor said, wanting to put a stop to this. "One last chance."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll throw you out."

They were about the same height but Thor thought he was a little broader. He was fairly certain he could win in a fight, spreading his shoulders a little.

Svaldifari sneered, hiding a little nervousness if Thor was any judge.

"Not worth it," he said, turning away and setting off down the stairs.

Thor closed the door and grunted as Loki threw himself into his arms.

"Oh, that was wonderful," he said half against Thor's lips. "You were wonderful."

"You were," Thor said. "You told him exactly what you thought of him."

"But you were going to fight him."

"I wasn't really. I was just trying to scare him."

"Thor. I _like_ that you were going to fight him."

Ah.

"Well, in that case, I was absolutely going to defend your honour with force and alacrity."

A grin, a kiss.

"Exactly."


	29. Different

Although Svaldifari had been put off for now, Loki wasn't fully confident that he wouldn't come sneaking back, maybe when Thor wouldn't be there to keep him brave.

He had to move, had to bid farewell to this apartment, the first home he'd ever had away from Jotunheim. A sad parting, the polished floor and the dark wood furniture forever in his memory, but he was determined, setting out with Thor to find somewhere suitable.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he felt Thor was trying to steer him towards equally beautiful but very different quarters; light aspects, bright reception rooms, a propensity for marble more than wood.

Trying to keep him away from reminders, was it? Well, maybe that was rather sweet when he thought about it.

They eventually settled upon a second-floor suite with a small balcony. It was the rug which sold it to Loki, though. Green and gold, different from the red one he'd had previously but just as fine.

He wasn't sure when such things had become so important to him, but for some reason it really was.

And then there was moving all this possessions, the books causing the main issue just through the weight of them. And Thor insisted on doing most of the heavy lifting himself, reminding Loki that he was the footman as he heaved boxes around.

Maybe Loki liked the way his arms bulged against his sleeves, almost able to see the shade of his skin through the white cotton, carefully massaging away the aches afterwards.

Before massaging other areas too...

"I know what you're doing, you know," Thor said as Loki sat very close behind him on the bed, squeezing his shoulders.

"Oh, yes? And what's that?"

"You're trying to seduce me."

Loki hummed lightly.

"I wouldn't think I'd need to bother now," he said, pressing his fingers along the curve at the top of his arm. "I imagine that if I were to just ask..."

"But you wouldn't," Thor said. "You're much too proud to actually ask."

Maybe that was true. Loki smiled at the back of Thor's head and let out a carefully calculated sigh. Warm and happy, brushing his fingers against bare skin, watching goosebumps rise on Thor's skin.

"I'm completely exhausted, of course," Thor said. "So you'd have to do all the work."

His voice was slightly off, too careful, hiding his growing arousal if Loki was any judge.

"I'm sure I could make that sacrifice."

He pulled Thor's collar down, pressing his lips to Thor's neck, inhaling the warmth of him, imprinting him onto every sense.

"Have you ever tried things the other way?"

"What?" Loki asked.

"Have you ever... You know. Been in the other position?"

Oh...

"No. No, never."

"Would you like to?"

Loki considered for a while, running his fingers through Thor's hair. He hadn't ever questioned why he hadn't and while he didn't feel a particularly strong draw, maybe he was curious. Maybe, he reasoned, it would be best to try with someone he trusted.

"It was merely an idea," Thor said. "If you don't think you'd enjoy it..."

"No, I would," Loki said. "It's just different."

Thor turned to look at him, taking his face gently in both hands, pulling him into a long, firm kiss.

"I'd love to share this with you," he said. "I want to feel you like this."

Despite himself, Loki felt a faint blush form at such open desire.

"I'll find the oil."

Thor was just as generous with himself as with Loki, closing his eyes tightly occasionally and keeping his breathing steady as he slipped a finger into himself.

Loki watched, never seeing from this angle before, fascinated and wanting, biting his lip in anticipation.

"It's been a long time," Thor said. "I'll need a moment to adjust."

"Of course," Loki said. "You tell me what feels good."

A warm smile, a second finger, starting to stretch himself. All for him. To experience this with him.

It felt somehow strange.

"Can I try?" Loki asked. "I've never done such a thing with someone else."

"Be gentle."

As if he wouldn't be. He was afraid of hurting him for one thing, sliding his finger inside and watching Thor's face carefully for even the smallest hint of discomfort.

"Mmm... Yeah, that's nice. Rub up a little bit? Yes, there..."

How wondrous to see his muscles twitch and know he was doing that, his own cock hard and desperate to be held in this warm, tight flesh. He could feel Thor clenching around his finger and found himself almost dazed with the knowledge that that sensation would soon be around his length...

"Loki."

"Yes?"

"I think I'm ready."

Getting undressed was a little bit of a scramble, Thor smiling at him as he lay back among the new pillows, reaching out to stroke his cock and guide it to his entrance.

Loki was almost afraid. He knew intellectually that such joinings were possible and yet as he lined up, he felt sure he would be unable to fit, having to push to slip the head inside.

Thor gasped, sending such fear through him.

"I'm sorry."

"No! No, Loki, it's good. Come on, push. I want to feel you."

Little by little, Loki moved forward, finally into Thor's arms for endless kisses, his cock completely sheathed inside. Wondrous. Miraculous.

And after a little while, Thor whispered in his ear that he was ready. That he could move.

A first clumsy thrust still made them both cry out, muffling their sounds with giggled kisses.

Eventually, Loki managed to establish something of a rhythm, not particularly hard or fast but steady. And Thor seemed to appreciate it, his quick breathing close to moans, sounding like the finest music to Loki.

He wasn't going to last, he knew it, but he couldn't help himself, driving forward with abandon, overwhelmed almost by sheer sensation, gasping as he spilled and Thor turned his face upwards, kissing him back to sensibility.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be. It was wonderful."

At least he let Loki suck him to completion. Gently, without strain, finishing on the sheets.

He really had learned a lot over Christmas.


	30. Parting

Alas, all good things had to end. Thor knew he had to go home, had to leave Loki to his studies and the wonders of Italy.

They both knew it and a sense of neediness grew between them, manifesting in long periods of melancholic embracing, soft but sad looks over dinner, a general sense of time running out for lovers.

That was what they were now, surely. Maybe not in love as such, though Thor was increasingly unsure if he knew what exactly he was feeling or if Loki felt the same.

No matter how hard they tried to push against time, the fated morning arrived where Thor knew he had to leave, the lazy winter sunshine - from such longer days this far south - already daring to slip into their paradise.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they said. Thor was praying that was true. He wasn't sure he'd manage to cope if this was taken from him, if Loki found another on a more permanent basis or wished to end their affair.

He'd have to leave Jotunheim if that happened. He knew it. He wouldn't be able to bear it.

Loki pouted at him as he made tea, his eyes seeming enormous.

"Don't go," he said eventually.

Thor sighed.

"I have to. The house will be all but falling down without me. And it will be no time at all before you're back."

It didn't help. He knew it didn't help with his own aching heart and nor did letting Loki wrap his arms around him and cling on for kiss after kiss, like he was trying to gorge on them before a period of famine.

"I have to go," Thor said, picking up his modest suitcase. "I'll write as soon as I get back."

And Loki nodded, lips tight, blinking hard. Trying to hold himself together. They were each waiting, he felt, not wanting to be the one to move first.

Thor kissed him once more and hurriedly turned away, down the stairs and out.

People were going about their business like nothing dreadful was happening and Thor hurried to the end of the street, concentrating on his breathing, stopping to look back before he turned the corner.

And there was Loki upon his balcony, watching him go.

He waved. There wasn't much else he could do. They'd agreed he ought to go to the railway station alone to avoid the pain of having to part like their relationship meant nothing.

The journey was long and lonely, full of tongues he didn't speak and strangers. But even catching the boat and landing back on English soil, his home, felt bitter for being alone.

He was looking forward to resuming his duties as he paid a local man to drive him to the house, looking forward to occupying his mind. The frost and snow was gone, replaced by a general sense of mud, only the tiny hint of sprouting snowdrops promising the return of spring.

He opened the kitchen door with a strange blend of gladness and loss. Even seeing Angerboda, her wide smile, asking him all about Italy and the journey, was only a partial reprieve.

"Lad," Ymir said from the doorway. "Letter for you."

"For me?" Thor asked.

"Arrived yesterday. With an Italian postmark."

It took a great deal of effort not to snatch it from him, Angerboda already holding out a butter knife for him to break the wax seal.

_Thor_

_You've only just left me and already I am full of regret. I let you go without telling you what is in my heart._

_I believe I may love you. And I know that you know more about such things than I, but it is the truth. I wish I had told you at the door or even shouted it down into the street when you turned to look back at me._

_I'm nervous to write such a thing to you, but... Well, I feel compelled._

_I expect nothing in return. I merely needed to admit it._

_With great affection_

_Loki_

Thor half fell into a chair. To think that such a man might care for him in that way! So cultured, so intelligent...

"I believe her ladyship may be writing to her son as we speak," Ymir said. "I suggested you may wish to add a missive."

The smile told him that he was not hiding his astonishment at all as he went upstairs to Farbauti's rooms.

Mrs Jarnsaxa answered his knock, her hair loose and a general air of peace about her. She wasn't hiding anymore and that had removed a lot of tension from her whole being.

"Welcome home," she said. "You'll be wanting to write, I understand."

"Yes, please."

She led him in, Farbauti sitting reading, another book in front of her. The two of them sitting in the window seat, just quietly spending time together. It was very sweet.

"There's paper on the davenport," Farbauti said. "And we shan't pry. You can seal up the envelope when you're finished."

She had a very fine ebony pen with a silver nib, a jar of dark blue ink sitting ready. Thor sat on her chair and tried to consider what to say.

_Dear Loki_

_I am safely returned home and have read your letter. Your mother has allowed me to share her envelope but has not read what I have written._

Right. Yes. But he couldn't write anything incriminating.

_I would like to assure you that the sentiments you expressed are heartily matched and returned._

It felt very restrained and limited. He needed to add something else.

_When we next see each other, I will take great delight in making this clear in person._

_Thor_

He blotted it gently and folded his paper neatly, tucking it into the envelope. What a small gesture and yet with such weight.

He sighed and straightened up.

"Tea, your ladyship?"

Farbauti smiled at him.

"Thank you, Thor. We have missed you so."

"The feeling is entirely mutual."

Even if he was already missing Loki more.


	31. The Return

Loki pulled his furs a little tighter and hoped the cold hadn't made his cheeks too red.

The year had seemed like strange liquid, moving at different speeds, viscous and watery at different times. Sometimes whole months had rushed by without any pause and sometimes a week seemed to last a year.

Thor's letters had always been a great comfort. He'd been afraid that the lack of daily contact might cool his ardour, but it hadn't. He'd written to Thor about everything and anything, from seeking advice to just telling him the odd little things that had happened in his daily life. Even in the depths of stress from his studies, a missive from Thor would ease him into smiles and take the tension from him.

He had heard nothing more from Svaldifari, thank goodness, though he had seen him from time to time. It was difficult to avoid him when they often frequented the same haunts. Loki had considered changing his habits but had decided in the end not to, and Thor had quite agreed.

_He does not control you,_ he had written. _Do not allow him to disrupt your routine or keep you from what interests you. You are not the one in the wrong._

It had helped steel his resolve, had helped keep him resolute when he felt an occasional glare from the opposite side of a salon.

Perhaps that was more to do with the way he'd occasionally engineered moments alone with the various young men - and less frequent women - fluttering around Svaldifari. Just to give them a word of friendly advice.

It didn't seem to be taken gladly too often, but sometimes he thought his warnings got through.

"Have fun, but be careful," he'd say. "Ask yourself if this is what you really want. Do you feel valued? Listened to?"

Most ignored him, but one or two seemed to be thoughtful and pensive. In the absence of a Thor of their own to help them see the light, he hoped they'd manage not to repeat his mistakes.

Speaking of which, he'd _accidentally_ written the wrong return date on his last letter to Thor. Terrible error. Completely slipped his mind that he'd be there a day earlier.

His parents knew, of course, but were sworn to secrecy. They were very good at secrets.

"Can you drive round the back way?" Loki asked his driver.

"Of course, sir. No trouble at all."

A surprise ought to be a proper surprise after all.

He eased open the kitchen door, peeking in, finding Angerboda at the stove as usual, her boy doing his lessons at the table.

"He's out with the dogs," she whispered. "You can probably hide here if you want."

He sat down and chatted with her, helping peel the potatoes and cut up vegetables despite her protests, getting all the local news until the door opened and Thor stomped his way in, kicking the snow off his boots.

And stopped.

And grinned.

And ran forward to pull him into an embrace.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

How they ended up in the parlour with tea, Loki wasn't sure. He certainly hadn't carried the tray. He just kept looking at Thor, and smiling and being amazed that he was really here at last to see him, to notice all the little things that had changed and everything that had stayed the same.

"That ribbon in your hair," he said uncertainly. "Is it...?"

Thor blushed.

"Yes. The offcut from the day we made up the Christmas baskets. You gave it to me and I know it's silly but... I like having something from you with me."

"I was annoying you that day."

"It was before we knew one another. We both had a lot to learn."

They sat next to each other on a couch, not really enough room but that just made it all the better as it gave Loki an excuse to turn sideways and lay his legs over Thor's lap.

"Tell me everything," Loki said.

"There isn't much to say that you don't already know."

"Just because I know something doesn't mean I don't want to hear it."

And Thor followed his meaning immediately, taking his hand, pressing his lips to his knuckles. Remembering his words from that first letter.

"I love you. With all that my heart can muster and yet more."

He'd known, of course. He'd heard the affection in Thor's letters, could almost hear the warmth of his voice, feel the softness of his touch in the careful round handwriting.

But it was still nice to hear it.

And it was nice to be embraced by his father, kissed by his mother, to sit down for dinner with his family and friends and his love and to know that he was home.

"I didn't manage to set up my surprise," Thor said, spooning out parsnips. "But I suppose that means you can help me with it."

"What surprise?" Loki asked.

"He's been most insistent," Farbauti said. "We couldn't possibly refuse."

"What, though?"

"Ymir and I had a devil of a time helping to drag it back once Thor cut it down," Laufey said.

Cut it... Cut it down...

"A tree? Our own tree?"

"It's drying off in the barn before we bring it indoors," Thor said, a little shyly. "I knew how much you wanted one."

Loki didn't know what to say, taking Thor's hand and squeezing it.

"Thank you."

Thor smiled and squeezed back.

"Merry Christmas, Loki."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing you all a happy and peaceful new year. Thank you for reading.
> 
> I intend to be back with a new story soon. I don't know what it will be. Inspiration is yet to strike. But hopefully soon!


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